Chou
by Likeahobbit
Summary: AU that takes place immediately after the end of 'Five Years Gone.' Hiro and Ando try to come to grips with the fates laid out for them, while the world around them collapses. Claude, Kimiko, Nathan, Peter, and Claire are central supporting characters.
1. Chapter 1

November 1st

Hiro was positive that even if he accidentally teleported himself and Ando forwards or backwards 100 years, things could not be worse than they were at the moment. His future self was dead, Ando was shouting and it sounded as if there was a war going on in the hallway. They needed to leave and soon, or they were all going to die and then things would really suck.

Hiro couldn't seem to catch his breath and he had no time to think about what he was doing. He just grabbed Ando and concentrated as hard as he possibly could, 'Let us be safe, let us be safe, please just let us be safe and be where we need to be.'

Someone was screaming and the air was suddenly impossibly hot. For a second Hiro was sure that he had screwed up and been unable to use his powers. His fingers clenched on Ando's shoulders and waited to be engulfed by the burning power that was filling the room. The sound of the building shaking was deafening.

Seconds passed and then...nothing. The heat faded away and so did the noise. Slowly, Hiro opened his eyes and blinked. They were outside. It was morning and sunny, and in the distance the New York skyline stretched proud and intact.

Hiro broke into a grin as Ando opened his eyes as well. The two men looked at each other and then laughed. They were back where they needed to be. Hiro wandered over to the edge of the building. Somewhere far below, a police siren wailed and traffic hummed. People went about their daily lives and time ticked on. Hiro smiled to himself and flipped through the comic book he still clutched in his hands. He gazed at the picture of Sylar and felt his smile slipping away.

'Now for the hard part,' he muttered.

There was a scuffling noise behind him and Hiro turned to see Ando leaning against the pigeon cages with his hands over his face.

'I can't believe we made it back,' said Ando from behind his hands. 'We actually made it back.'

'You said you believed in me!' Hiro accused, tucking the comic into his jacket and then going over to his friend and trying to draw Ando's hands away from his face. Ando resisted and shook his head.

'I did. I do.' He sighed and drew his hands down to place them on Hiro's shoulders. 'I do. It was just...scary.'

Hiro nodded solemnly. 'It was.' He patted Ando's hand and tried to smile reassuringly. 'But its over now. We're going to stop that future from ever happening.'

After a moment's hesitation, Hiro rested his hand on Ando's a squeezed it. 'We'll stop it. Together.'

For a moment, Ando just stood silently studying his friend's face. Hiro shifted, wanting to say something but unsure what was going through his friend's mind. He had rarely seen Ando look so serious. What had happened to Ando while Hiro had been locked up with homeland security? He was about to ask when Ando nodded as if making his mind up about something.

'I like you better this way,' he said.

'You like me...better what way?' Hiro asked, confused.

'You have a bruise here,' Ando said, ignoring Hiro's question and reaching up to brush his knuckles over a sore spot on Hiro's face that went from his hairline to his cheekbone. Hiro flinched, but didn't pull away. Ando's touch lingered and Hiro realized that he still had his hand over Ando's and that they were standing particularly close. Hiro felt his cheeks color and Ando smiled.

'Come on, Hiro, enough standing around on the roof.' He pulled away and began looking for the stair door. For a moment, Hiro reached after him, missing the closeness, but he quickly recovered his bearings and followed after his friend.

'We need to find out when it is,' said Ando. 'And then we can find out where this Sylar is so that you can stop him.'

Hiro swallowed hard, thinking of the picture in the comic book of himself stabbing Sylar. There had been a lot of blood. Lots and lots of blood. Hiro felt a bit ill thinking about it. He felt like things were rushing by too quickly, like his life was out of control. He also couldn't shake the feeling that there was something bothering Ando, something more than just barely escaping an apololyptic maybe-future. He opened his mouth to ask if Ando was okay, prepared to argue if Ando insisted that he was, but someone else spoke before he could. Someone who answered in English even though Ando had spoken in Japanese.

'I think I can help you out on the 'when' part, friend,' said the voice. Ando and Hiro spun around, looking for the speaker. Hiro drew his sword and stepped slightly in front of Ando. He felt Ando's hand on his shoulder, a reassuring, warm weight, and prepared himself for anything.

'Its November 1st, 2006 and 9:31 in the morning,' the speaker continued. The air in front of Hiro and Ando seemed to waver, then form an outline of a man. It was almost like looking at a reflection in troubled water. 'And as for the Sylar bloke...well, I think I know someone who can help you find him.' The outline morphed and solidified until a very shaggy and very real person stood before them, looking vaugly annoyed.

'That's some power you got there, Mr. Nakamura,' Claude Raines said in Japanese. 'Won't daddy be suprised.'


	2. Chapter 2

November 1st, 10:30 a.m.

Angela Petrelli had a massive headache that no amount of prescription drugs or expensive Bourbon could cure. It was a headache that made her see red and made the queen sized bed in her nice cozy bedroom look extraordinarily appealing. Angela had not slept well for days because of the headache and she was not a woman who functioned well on little sleep.

Now though things were relatively quiet and the headache that went by the name of Claire was out with Nathan's pretty secretary shopping for appropriate clothes. The girl had arrived with nearly nothing and illegitimate granddaughter or not she needed suitable things to wear. Claire had stubbornly refused to take Angela's credit card, so Angela had given it to the secretary with instructions to buy anything that Claire appeared to like. Angela had also given the secretary instructions to protect Claire from anyone who would do her harm. The secretary was an adept earth manipulator. Claire would be reasonably safe with her.

Angela sat on the love seat with a sigh, for a moment releasing her tightly composed facade. It had been a stressful few days. Her dreams were becoming particularly aggressive and it had reached the point where she could no longer ignore them. The visions were becoming clearer, which meant that they would be happening soon. Angela had spent the last thirty years playing the thoughtful attorney's wife and the politician's mother. It was a role she had embraced completely and hoped to never be forced to give up. Now, however, her husband was dead by his own hand. Her boys were displaying powers that she had hoped they would never posses. Her granddaughter, who Angela had worked so very hard to protect, had shown up looking for the father that Nathan could never really be. Angela had nearly lost Peter, and somewhere out in the city a violent creature prowled in the shadows.

Angela rubbed at her temple and sat up straight. She was the dignified matriarch once again. Her cellphone was in her jacket pocket. She had known since this morning that she would have to make this phone call and it was time to stop putting it off. With another sigh Angela took out the phone and punched in the long string of numbers that she still had memorized, even after all these years. The line rang and Angela spared a passing thought for what was sure to be a horrendous long distance charge. Then somebody picked up on the other end and before the young woman could finish her greeting Angela interrupted her.

'Put me through to Kaito Nakamura immediately, please.' A pause. 'It is Angela Petrelli. Fetch him and tell him that. He won't mind being interrupted for this.'

'So you worked for Hiro's father?' Ando asked skeptically. The man who called himself Claude certainly didn't look like the typical Yamagato employee. In fact, he didn't look like an employee of anything. He looked like a crazy homeless guy. Even after he had called Hiro by his last name, explained who he was, and dropped Peter Petrelli's name Ando felt suspicious of him. It seemed too coincidental that an invisible man would happen to be on the roof that Ando and Hiro teleported from the future to. Then again, coincidences did seem to happen around Hiro quite a bit.

'Worked for him years ago, yeah.'

Claude was pacing. He had been pacing pretty much since he had first appeared. He couldn't seem to stand still. Ando found this annoying. Hiro hardly ever stood still either, but that was Hiro. It wasn't as annoying when he did it.

'I think I may have met you once, when you were just a wee lad,' said Claude, gesturing to Hiro.

Hiro looked glanced at the older man and frowned. 'I don't remember you,'

'Most people don't,' Claude said bitterly. 'I looked a bit different back then. You've grown up a bit. Got yourself a fancy sword and the ability to move through time. Can't say I've ever run into a chronopath before. Congratulations, son. You're an oddity.'

Hiro beamed, obviously pleased with himself. Ando tried not to laugh. Hiro was an oddity alright.

'And what about you, friend?' Claude asked Ando, startling the other man a bit. 'What do you do?'

'Um...'Ando stammered, feeling uncomfortable and put on the spot. 'I don't-'

'Ando helps me,' Hiro interrupted. He moved so that he was standing next to Ando, their sides just barely touching. 'Without him, I am nothing.'

Claude seemed ready to burst out laughing, but Ando felt a surge of pride at Hiro's words. Hiro needed him. It was nice to be needed.

'Touching,' Claude said. 'Really. Is this rooftop a magnet for sentimental wool gatherers?'

Hiro frowned and looked at Ando quizzically. Ando shrugged.

'Never mind.' Claude sighed. 'Right then, we've wasted enough time talking. I can take you to a bloke who can help you find Sylar, but I'm not going out in the crowd visible. You two will have to track me by touch.'

'How will we do that?' Ando asked.

'Easy.' Claude smiled and vanished. A moment later there was a tug on Ando's sleeve.

'Creepy,' muttered Ando.

'Don't go talking to me, either,' said Claude's disembodied voice. 'Most folk will just think you're a nut talking to yourself, but there are some people who will notice. If you have to talk, use your native tongue. You'll draw less attention that way.'

The rooftop door swung open, then swung shut again. 'You might want to hand me that sword, Nakamura.'

Hiro suddenly looked a bit panicked. 'Why? It is the sword of Kensei; I need it to control my powers!'

'It isn't a wise idea to walk down the streets of New York with a visible weapon. Hand it over, lad; you'll get it back.'

Hiro frowned and looked at Ando, who shrugged. 'He does have a point,' said Ando grudgingly.

Hiro sighed dramatically and swung his sword off his back. He looked at it longingly for a moment before extending it out towards the emptiness where Claude was. The sword was lifted and then vanished.

'That'll do,' said Claude's voice. The rooftop door opened again. 'Shall we go?'

'I guess so,' said Hiro, looking like a kid who just dropped his ice cream cone.

Ando patted him on the back as they walked down the stairs. 'Lets go stop the future,' he said.


	3. Chapter 3

November 1st, 11:15

Nathan Petrelli's cell phone was ringing again. He ignored it. It had been ringing on and off all morning and after the first 15 phone calls he had refused to take any more. He would have turned it off altogether, but Claire was out in the city with his secretary and Peter was...well, Peter was Peter. If they called, Nathan would answer, but not for anyone else.

The phone rang five, six, seven times and then went silent as the voicemail picked up. Relieved, Nathan tried to return to his hurriedly lunch and catch up on some reading. He had a meeting with some of his backers at noon and to be honest he wasn't exactly sure who everybody was. He had some memorization to do. It wouldn't be good to call somebody by the wrong name.

The phone rang again. Nathan grabbed it and glared at the caller I.D. Seeing that the glowing digital screen read 'Ma', Nathan hit 'silent' and set the phone back on his desk. He had no desire to talk to his mother at the moment.

Several minutes later the phone rang again, vibrating and causing more racket than it had with the ringer. This time Nathan didn't recognize the number at all. Scowling, he opened his desk drawer and shoved the phone inside. It hummed incessantly, but at least the noise was dulled.

Nathan returned to his papers, shifting through them and trying to get refocused. Somebody knocked on his office door.

'What?' Nathan barked, more sharply than he had intended.

The door opened and a strange man was standing there looking slightly afraid. Nathan stared at him, having no idea who the stranger was for a second, then saw the 'Petrelli Campaign Volunteer' button pinned to the man's jacket. Oh.

'Mr. Petrelli?' said the volunteer. 'Your mother is on line one and she told me to tell you that if you ignore her phone call again she'll come down here and make a scene.'

Nathan sighed heavily. 'Thank you. Tell her I'll...never mind. I'll take it in here.'

The volunteer nodded and left, looking relieved. As soon as the door was shut Nathan picked up his office phone and punched the button that would connect him to his mother.

'Ma,' Nathan said shortly. 'Now is not the best time.'

'I need you to come home.' Even over the phone Angela Petrelli's voice sounded stern. 'There is somebody very important coming to New York tomorrow and I want you to help me make things ready.'

'I can't come home now; I have too many things to do. I have a meeting in a half an hour and then the rest of my afternoon is filled up with interviews. You do remember I'm running for Congress, right?'

'I had your meeting canceled,' Angela replied. 'And I've moved your interviews to the third.'

'You what?' Nathan was alarmed that his mother had done all that in the space of a few hours. 'Do you know how much that will set me back? No, I can't do it. Get Peter to help you if its so important.'

'I don't want Peter involved with this man, Nathan. Peter always wants to fix things and he always gets himself into trouble. You know how to talk to people and not give away...unnecessary information.'

Nathan was silent for a minute. 'Ma...who exactly is it that's coming tomorrow?'

'Somebody I would rather not see. At any rate, I'm going to be preparing Claire for Paris tomorrow, so you will be the one to receive our guests. I want to make sure you know what to say and how to behave.'

'I'm not your puppet.'

'Of course you're not, dear. Will you come?'

Nathan was furious. 'If I do, you'll tell me everything? Not just about this person, whoever he is, but about everything? Everything about whatever it is you're scheming?'

'I don't scheme, Nathan,' Angela said lightly. 'I orchestrate. I'll tell you all you need to know. Claire won't be back for several hours, so we can have a nice long chat.'

That wasn't exactly a positive answer. Nathan sighed and rubbed his temples. 'Fine. Fine, I'll come.'

'Thank you, Nathan. I'll see you for lunch.' There was a click. Angela Petrelli had hung up and left her son exhausted and confused.

Hiro and Ando stared up at the building Claude had led them to. It was old and crumbling. Angry shouting could be heard from one of the open windows. Music so loud that only the bass could be heard drifted down from one of the higher floors. Hiro and Ando glanced at each other.

'Professor Suresh lives here?' Ando asked and received a push to the back as a response. 'Fine, fine. We get it. Let's go, Hiro.'

Hiro glanced over his shoulder. Claude still couldn't be seen, but his presence was undeniable, especially when he was prodding them in the back. Together the three of them entered the building and headed to the elevator. Once inside and alone, Claude hit a button and spoke as the car rose.

'Alright, you're going to go to number 24. I got the address from Peter Petrelli; drop that name but do not say anything about me. I'd suggest being careful about what you say as well, but you'll say what you will, like as not. Do try to stay focused though, eh? It is the future that's at stake after all.'

'But...where will you be?' asked Hiro.

'I'll be riding the elevator.'

The elevator reached its destination and the doors slid open. The sword of Kensei was suddenly thrust into Hiro's arms, and Hiro and Ando were pushed out into the hallway. The doors shut and they were alone.

'What a rude man,' muttered Ando.

'Number 24, he said. Professor Suresh.' Hiro slipped his sword onto his back and pulled out the comic book. Ando peeked over his shoulder as Hiro flipped through the pages. Some of the scenes Ando recognized, but most of them he did not. There was a man, then two men, and Hiro was strapped to a chair, and there was a needle, and then...

'Ah!' Triumphant, Hiro showed a page to Ando. It showed the two of them standing at an apartment door with a confused looking Indian man talking to them. 'Suresh!'

'Can I see that?' Ando asked, gesturing at the comic. The images he had seen unsettled him. Hiro studied him for a moment, then handed it over.

'It isn't as bad as it looks,' Hiro muttered and started down the hallway, glancing at room numbers as he went.

Ando followed more slowly, flipping through the pages and becoming more and more horrified.

'Hiro, what did they do?'

'Twenty-four!' exclaimed Hiro, pointedly ignoring Ando's question. He raised his hand to knock and Ando caught his arm. Ando let the comic slip to the floor and gently pulled the sleeve away from Hiro's wrist. The pale skin was chaffed and red, remnants of the restraints home land security had used.

'It isn't as bad as it looks,' Hiro said again, pulling his arm from Ando's grasp. Ando stared at him, aghast. He wanted to crush Hiro to him and protect him. Pity, guilt, and an overwhelming anger flushed through Ando's body.

'I'll hurt them,' Ando said. It was a stupid and somewhat strange thing to say, but at that moment he completely and utterly meant it.

'Ando-kun!' Hiro said with a surprised laugh. Ando felt his cheeks go red and ducked his head.

'Don't fret about it,' Hiro said, smiling warmly. 'Its in the past...future...er...let's just knock on the door.'

Hiro rapped on the door as Ando shook his head and picked up the comic book, taking care not to look at it again. He remembered the folded bit of paper that Hiro, future Hiro, had given him before he...before they left. It was tucked safe in Ando's pocket. Ando touched it absentmindedly as the door opened and Dr. Mohinder Suresh peeked out at them.


	4. Chapter 4

November 1st, 12:23 p.m. New York; 2:23 a.m. Tokyo

Kimiko Nakamura did not enjoy being woken up by an angry phone call in the middle of the night. She especially did not enjoy being told that she had to be on a plane back to the U.S. in less than one hour when she had just returned to Japan. Luckily she was still officially on 'vacation' and already had somebody covering her divisions. Otherwise she would have had to argue with her father that she couldn't go, and arguing with Kaito Nakamura never really ended well for anybody.

So Kimiko had hauled herself out of bed, packed some necessary things, and had herself looking wide awake and presentable by the time the car arrived to take her to the airport. It was raining and thundering in the distance, not very good flying weather.

Kimiko wondered what the emergency was this time. Her father had sounded furious on the phone and all he would say about the situation was that a colleague in New York had called about Hiro and that they needed to leave immediately. Kimiko didn't think her brother was hurt; her father likely wouldn't have sounded so angry if that was the case. Hiro likely had got himself into some sort of unimaginable trouble. Kaito would go handle it because he was Hiro's father. Kimiko would go because Kaito didn't know how to really handle Hiro.

The wind had picked up considerably during the ride to the airport and a full blown storm raged as Kimiko boarded the aircraft. The pilot was looking anxious; it was plain he couldn't take off in such weather. Kaito wouldn't be happy.

Without saying a word Kimiko settled into her seat. Outside, rain pattered against her window. Kimiko closed her eyes and bowed her head, tired but concentrating. The wind blew more violently for a moment, so hard the fuselage shook. Then the sound of raging thunder faded. The storm split and blew off in four directions. The rain slowed then stopped altogether. The clouds rolled away and the moon shown palely just as Kaito Nakamura boarded the plane.

Kimiko opened her eyes and raised her head in time to catch her father's eye. He offered her a small nod and Kimiko smiled in return. It was nice to finally be able to share her secret after all these years.

Halfway around the world, Molly Walker sipped at her chocolate milk happily before returning to her drawing. It was a crude representation of the world, covered in happy faces and frowny faces. The happy faces represented people who Molly wasn't afraid of, people she knew instinctively that she could trust. The frowny faces were people she wasn't sure about. New York had another symbol, a giant black 'X'. That was the bad man, the man who had killed her parents and tried to get her. She never wanted to run into that man again.

Ignoring the other symbols for the moment, Molly picked up a red crayon and drew a happy face on the squiggly form marked 'Japan.' Then she drew an arrow out over the ocean, towards the United States. There were other people coming as well, but Molly wasn't sure what to make of them. They got red frowny faces.

The door to her room opened and Mr. Thompson came in. Molly smiled at him as he sat down next to her. He'd be wanting to see her pictures and there were some new people that Molly had found since his last visit.

'Absolutely incredible!' Mohinder Suresh exclaimed, circling Hiro and making him acutely uncomfortable. 'You can actually bend time?'

'And space,' Hiro muttered. He looked at Ando pleadingly.

His friend was seated on the couch with his arms crossed, the comic face down on his lap. He hadn't said a word since Mohinder had invited them in. Now, however, he stood up.

'We didn't come here to talk about Hiro's ability. We came to see if you knew where Sylar is.'

Mohinder frowned at him, but stopped circling Hiro. Hiro sat down on the couch with a sigh of relief.

'The man is a dangerous lunatic,' said Mohinder. 'I have no idea where he went when he left here, and even if I did what makes you think that you can stop him?'

'We got this from the future,' said Ando, handing Mohinder the comic. 'It tells us what Hiro has to do.'

'You told me what I have to do,' Hiro piped up. 'In the future! You said "go back and stop Sylar." So here we are.'

'You actually brought this back with you from another time?' the professor asked, walking around the messy apartment and flipping through the pages. 'This is Issac Menez's work.'

'Yes, yes, Mr. Issac! He paints the future.'

Mohinder sat down on his desk, still engrossed in the comic. 'This doesn't look like a very bright future.'

'That's why we have to stop it,' burst in Ando. He was exasperated. It seemed like all they were doing was rehashing the same information over and over again and not getting anywhere. 'If Hiro stabs Sylar, that will stop it.'

'Yes, but how do you know that for sure?' Mohinder asked. 'Stabbing Sylar could very well cause an even worse future, and that's assuming you can even accomplish it. Sylar steals people's powers. If he got yours it would be disastrous.'

Hiro paled slightly. Ando suppressed the urge to scream. What was this man doing, frightening Hiro and destroying his confidence in one fell swoop?

'That won't happen,' said Ando firmly. 'Hiro can do this. His future self did it. It just didn't work because Sylar had the cheerleader's power. But now the cheerleader is alive and Sylar doesn't have her power. So if Hiro stabs him, then Sylar will just be...dead.'

'I feel sick,' Hiro mumbled.

'I feel tired.' Ando sighed. 'Can I use your bathroom?'

Mohinder waved him in the bathroom's direction without taking his eyes off of the comic book. Ando picked his way over splinters of wood and glass and shut the door behind him. The faucet clanked loudly when he turned it on, but the water was cold and felt good when he splashed it on his face. In the other room, Hiro and Mohinder were talking again.

Ando looked at himself in the mirror. He hardly recognized himself. He was dirty and exhausted looking and it seemed that he'd lost weight. A slip of white peeking out of his pants pocket caught his eye: the page that Future Hiro had passed him. Tearing his eyes away from the mirror, Ando sat down on the edge of the tub and pulled the paper out. It was bloodstained and felt unnaturally soft, as if it had been folded and refolded many times. Curious and somewhat apprehensive, Ando unfolded it.

His eyes grew wider and wider as they roamed over the paper. The more he looked, the faster his heart beat, until the room seemed to spin and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. Ando shook his head, wanting to look away, but he didn't seem to be able to.

'Ando-kun?' There was a knock on the bathroom door.

'Hiro...' Ando whispered and quickly folded the paper back up and slipped it back into his pocket, out of sight.

'Ando-kun, are you alright?' Another knock and then Hiro just walked right in. Any other time Ando would have yelled at him for his lack of respect for privacy, but this time Ando saw him and wanted to cry. His ears were ringing. Why on earth was his heartbeat so loud?

'Ando! What's the matter?' Hiro's voice echoed in Ando's ears and he was vaguely aware of Hiro rushing to his side. 'You're so pale! Are you sick?'

A hand, blessedly warm, pressed against Ando's cheek and forehead. Ando leaned into the touch, wanting to tell Hiro to calm down and stop being so dramatic but unable to form the words.

'Hiro, I...need to...'

'I can't hear you, Ando-kun, you have to talk louder.'

'Stop shouting,' Ando murmured. Dizziness assailed him, forcing his eyes shut. 'Hiro, I'm going to faint.'

The last thing he heard before doing just that was Hiro's panicked voice shouting for help.


	5. Chapter 5

November 1, 2:03 p.m.

Sylar stared at the picture he had just painted and frowned. Apparently artistic talent didn't come with the ability to paint the future. The image on the canvas was jumbled and smeared; it was almost as if he had started to paint one thing and then switched gears halfway through. There was a lot of orange and red; fire, Sylar supposed. Jagged shapes that could be buildings lined the background. It looked a little like a city. It looked at little like a city that had been bombed.

Sylar touched his face thoughtfully, smearing paint in the process. Was he predicting a war, then? Was he seeing something overseas? Was it possible that this was what the artist had been referring to, the way Sylar was supposed to be stopped? It seemed a little extreme to destroy a city for one person.

Sylar glanced around the room at the other paintings. One in particular caught his attention: a man, wreathed in flames with his hands extended towards the heavens and his mouth open in a scream. Sylar crossed the room, stepping lightly over the body of the painter as he did so. Up close, it was easier to see that the man wasn't just engulfed in flames; the flames were coming from the man.

Stopping you saves the world...

Sylar shook himself. There was no way that he was the exploding man. Exploding would kill a lot of unpowered people. There was nothing to gain from it. It didn't make any sense for him to blow up, unless...unless it was an accident.

Slightly shaken, Sylar crossed the room and took up the paints again. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his future and only his future. Some time later when the vision trance lifted, there was a new painting: a man ringed in fire standing in a blown out circle of debris. A flier reading 'Petrelli wins in landslide' was licked by the flames.

Sylar looked at the figure he had drawn and set his palate down.

'I think I may have a problem...' he muttered.

'How long do you think until he wakes up?' Hiro asked as he gazed down at Ando's sleeping form on the ratty old couch.

'I couldn't tell you for sure,' said Mohinder. 'Fainting from panic attacks is unusual. I'd guess that he's mostly just exhausted, but I've never met anyone who's traveled through time before. Here.' Mohinder offered Hiro a glass of water, but Hiro waved it away.

'I didn't mean to hurt him. It never hurts me.'

'Yes, but you're built to do it apparently,' replied Mohinder. He took a swig of the water himself. 'I don't think it was the time travel necessarily that caused the fainting spell. From the way you described it, it was a panic attack.'

'You keep saying that,' Hiro said, looking at Mohinder sharply. 'I don't understand. He was okay in here.' Hiro sighed. 'I want to wake him up.'

'You can try,' said Mohinder. He set down the water glass and folded his arms. 'Sleep might be better for him. It would also do you some good, Mr. Nakamura.'

Hiro shook his head. 'Not until I stop Sylar.'

'You're really serious about that, aren't you?' Mohinder sighed. 'I suppose I can give you the information I have. I can't guarantee it will lead you to Sylar, but it will be a start.'

Hiro gave him a small smile. 'Thank you.'

Mohinder shrugged. 'I would appreciate it, however, if you would do me a favor.'

'Me?' asked Hiro. 'What can I do for you?'

'Quite a bit, actually.' Mohinder walked over to wear Hiro sat and sat on the edge of the couch. 'I've been trying to research people like you, trying to find out why you can do the things you do. I made some progress, but most of the data I gathered was destroyed when Sylar did all this damage to my apartment.'

He paused, but Hiro merely stared at him and remained silent. 'I'd like to study you,' Mohinder went on. 'With your help I can begin my research again. I might be able to help people.'

Hiro raised his eyebrows and blinked. 'How...'

'Just a few simple tests. Blood work, EKG, simple things.'

Hiro frowned thoughtfully and looked back at Ando. 'If you help me find Sylar,' he said slowly. 'Then I'll help you.'

'Fantastic!' Mohinder exclaimed excitedly. 'Thank you, thank you very much.'

Hiro shrugged. 'I'd like to try to wake up Ando now.'

'Of course.' Mohinder stood up. 'I've got some things to ready in the other room. I'll just be in there.' He pointed to door that led to his meager bedroom. 'Call if you need anything; and don't worry if you can't wake him yet. He's probably just tired.'

Hiro nodded and knelt on the floor beside the couch as Mohinder disappeared into the bedroom.

'Ando-kun,' Hiro whispered loudly. 'Wake up! You've slept long enough!'

In his sleep, Ando groaned and rolled over so that his back was facing Hiro. This was encouraging. He had always rolled away when Hiro tried to wake him in the morning while on the road. Hiro poked him in the lower back.

'Ando-kun!' Hiro said a bit more loudly. 'Wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up!'

'Be quiet, Hiro, and let me sleep,' Ando murmured sleepily.

'No, I will not!' Hiro grabbed Ando's shoulder and rolled his friend back onto his back. 'You fainted and scared me, now wake up!'

'Huh?' Ando opened his eyes a tiny bit and jumped when he saw Hiro half an inch away from his face. 'Don't do that!'

'You're awake!' Hiro exclaimed happily.

Ando sat up with a groan and rubbed at the back of his neck. 'I fell asleep?'

'You fainted.'

'I fainted.'

Hiro nodded vigorously. 'Like a girl.'

Ando glared at him and swatted at him. 'You're lying!'

'I'm not,' said Hiro and then inexplicably he was hugging Ando as tightly as he could around the waist with his face pressed into Ando's shoulder. 'You scared me to death, you jerk. What happened.'

Bewildered, Ando patted his friend on the back awkwardly. 'It was...' Ando stopped as the images came flooding back. 'It was...' Fire, destruction, pain, death, darkness...No. Ando shook his head and put his arms around Hiro's shoulders.

'It was nothing,' Ando said finally, hugging Hiro tightly and staring at the wall. 'I was just overwhelmed by everything. I'm not used to this you know.'

'Are you sure?' Hiro pulled back and studied his friend's face carefully. 'Are you sure you're okay? You haven't told me anything about what you did in the future.'

Ando's stomach lurched, but he gave Hiro what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 'That's because it was boring. Nothing really happened; we just planned how to rescue you.'

Hiro looked at him skeptically. Ando laughed and shoved him playfully. 'Not everyone can have superhero action all the time.'

Hiro smiled. 'You'd tell me though, wouldn't you? If something was wrong?'

Ando's heart twisted. Anything else he would tell Hiro, anything, but not this...not what he had seen etched in black and white ink. He couldn't. He didn't even think he could form the words properly yet.

'I'd tell you,' said Ando, lying for the first time to his best friend. 'Super Hiro.'

Hiro laughed and, grabbing Ando by the hand, hauled him to his feet. 'Good. The professor is going to help us find Sylar.'

'You convinced him?'

'Sort of. I think he convinced himself,' said Hiro. 'Plus I wouldn't stop bothering him.'

'That does seem to work,' Ando laughed. Hiro beamed at him, clearly relieved that his friend was okay. Ando smiled back at him and realization suddenly struck him. Even though Hiro could be incredibly annoying, even though sometimes he was like a kid brother who wouldn't stop pestering him, even though he was too obsessed with comics and video games for his own good, even though he got Ando into trouble constantly and got himself into trouble even more frequently...even though Hiro was strange, irritatingly optimistic, and infuriating sometimes, he was the one person that Ando cared about most in the world.

Ando had never considered himself particularly courageous, but listening to Hiro prattle on about what Suresh had said made Ando realize that if it came down to it, he would die for Hiro and do so unflinchingly. And that frightened Ando almost as much as what he'd seen in the comic.


	6. Chapter 6

ovember 1st, 9:45 p.m.

Nighttime came to New York. All over the city people returned to their homes and their loved ones, ate their dinners and tucked their children in for the night. The homeless of the city gathered around garbage can fires and huddled close together against the cold. Strangers passed each other on the street, keeping their eyes down and hardly noticing one another.

Claude Raines checked on his pigeons. The last one had finally returned and Claude scolded it gently before stroking its feathers and putting it back in its coup. The bird twittered momentarily and then settled alongside its siblings and fell silent. Claude shut the cage door and bid the birds goodnight. He walked to the edge of the building and looked out over the city. It really was beautiful at night. The sparkling lights almost made up for the starless sky. Claude rubbed his hands together and blew on them, trying to keep warm. It was a cold night.

Angela Petrelli pulled back the curtains and looked outside. Somebody jogged by with a dog in tow, their breath puffing in the brisk air. Nathan put his coat on, eager to get home to his family. He said goodnight to his mother without looking at her and received little more than a curt nod. Nathan picked up his briefcase and made it as far as the door before he sighed heavily and returned to his mother's side. He kissed her cheek and promised to be there in the morning.

Peter Petrelli doodled on a napkin in his apartment. Twin figures entwined on a bench, sheltering one another from the cold. A red umbrella was perched beside them. Peter slammed his pen down and covered his face with his hands, wishing hard for the past.

Claire Bennet folded clothes and set them into a newly bought suitcase. Nathan's secretary was chattering about Paris and all the fun Claire was sure to have, but Claire hardly heard her. Things hardly seemed real anymore. On the highway in St. Louis, Claire's adopted father cleaned his glasses and directed Matt Parkman to take a certain turn off. Ted Sprague snored in the backseat.

Kaito Nakamura looked out the window and watched thin clouds drift by. Kimiko sighed in her sleep next to him and seemed to shiver. A flight attendant wandered by and cheerily asked if they needed anything. Kaito took a blanket from her and tucked it around his daughter, taking care not to wake her. Then he went back to staring out the window.

Molly Walker was fast asleep. No dreams haunted her.

Sylar walked down the dirty city streets with his hands in his pockets and his mind on destruction. A bag lady banged into him. She shrieked and the plastic bag of cans she was carrying burst open, sending aluminum scattering on the pavement. With a wave of Sylar's hand the cans gathered themselves together and deposited themselves in the woman's arms. The bag lady stared at Sylar as he continued past her, but none of the other streetwalkers noticed and Sylar didn't look back.

Mohinder Suresh worked intently on his new laptop computer, inputting the information he'd gotten from Hiro Nakamura into a new spreadsheet. The lab results would be a problem; Mohinder needed a decent medical lab to study them properly. He paused in his work and glanced at the card the strange man, Thompson, had given him. Was he trustworthy? Was anybody?

Ando sat on Mohinder's couch and studied the folded comic once again. The image was the same and it was still terrifying, but Ando did not panic.

In the bathroom, Hiro prodded the bandage that covered the small puncture wound on his arm where Mohinder had taken blood. The professor had asked a lot of questions, many that Hiro didn't know how to answer. It had taken a few hours, but they were finally finished. Mohinder promised to help them find Sylar the next morning, and since all of Hiro and Ando's things were back in Las Vegas Mohinder had said they could stay with him for the night. Hiro gazed down at his hands. How long until they were stained with blood? Ando called him from the other room and Hiro went to him, putting the disturbing thoughts from his mind, for the moment at least.

November 2nd, 1:28 a.m.

Hiro woke with a gasp, sitting straight up and lashing out at a danger that wasn't really there. The nightmare had been awful and disturbingly vivid; his hands still tingled with the sensation of the sword in his hand, stabbing into somebody who looked like Sylar but sounded like Ando when he screamed...

Panting and trembling, Hiro looked around the room. He didn't recognize the apartment, didn't recognize the pull out sofa he was sitting on, and for a moment he was terrified. Then he saw Ando sleeping beside him and remembered. This was Mohinder Suresh's living room. It was the middle of the night and Hiro was not yet a killer.

Relieved, Hiro let out a wavery breath and wiped cold sweat from his forehead. The air in the room was chilled and Hiro shivered.

'It was a dream. It wasn't real, it was just a dream,' Hiro said to the room. 'Just a very bad dream.'

'You're okay, Hiro,' Ando murmured sleepily. 'We're safe here, so go back to sleep.'

'I didn't mean to wake you up,' Hiro said apologetically as he lay back down under the thin sheets. Ando merely grunted.

'Ando-kun...' Hiro whispered.

'Mmm?'

'Ando-kun...I don't think I'm a very good hero.'

At that, Ando rolled over and blinked at his friend blearily. 'What on earth are you talking about?'

'I'm so afraid. I know what I have to do, but...' Hiro scooted over closer to Ando, until their knees touched beneath the covers. 'I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I can really...kill somebody.'

'And you think that makes you a bad hero?' Ando smiled and brushed Hiro's hair out of his eyes. 'It's good that you value life. If you didn't, you wouldn't be you. I know you, Hiro. You'll do what you have to do.'

'But if I fail-'

'You won't' Ando interrupted firmly. Then, more softly, 'You won't.'

'Aren't you afraid?' Hiro asked quietly. He reached out and brushed Ando's fingers.

'Of course I am,' said Ando, 'but I trust you.'

'I trust you, too,' breathed Hiro, and then he leaned forward and pressed a shy, chaste kiss on Ando's lips.

'I wanted to do that since Las Vegas,' Hiro admitted sheepishly when he pulled back, 'but I didn't have the courage to.'

Ando swallowed heavily and licked his lips. 'What gave you the courage to now?'

Hiro shrugged. 'I just didn't want to wait anymore.'

Ando smiled. 'Then I won't either.'

Hiro was a bit surprised when Ando kissed him. He knew that Ando cared about him a great deal and even loved him in his own way, but Hiro had never really thought that his Vegas stripper watching friend would be anything but horrified at the thought of kissing another male. Yet here he was, kissing Hiro desperately and gripping his arms as if he'd never let go.

Hiro was so surprised at Ando's fervor that he forgot to react and Ando pulled back, looking concerned.

'Was that okay?' Ando asked worriedly. 'I didn't mean...I thought that...'

'Yes, yes, it was okay,' Hiro said hurriedly. 'It was good. Just...do it again.'

Ando chuckled and obliged him, this time curling his arm around Hiro's waist and tugging him closer so that they were chest to chest. Hiro wound his fingers in Ando's hair and kissed him back clumsily, trying to find a rhythm that worked. Eventually he got the hang of it and, curious, opened his mouth tentatively and touched Ando's lips with his tongue.

Ando whimpered and opened to him, deepening the kiss and setting Hiro's body on fire. His fingertips tingled as he traced around the curve of Ando's ear, down over his cheek and alongside his jaw. Ando's hands stroked up and down along Hiro's spine, making Hiro twist and squirm.

'Wait!' Hiro gasped, and then contradicted his words by kissing the side of Ando's neck. 'Mr. Suresh is in the other room.'

'Then we'll have to be quiet,' Ando whispered, grabbing the bottom of Hiro's shirt and tugging it over his head. 'Can you be quiet, Hiro?' he teased, running his hands over Hiro's now bare back and chest.

'Yes,' Hiro squeaked before Ando's mouth found his once again. Groaning happily, Hiro wound his legs around Ando's and pulled his friend's shirt over his head. They laid like that for a while, naked from the waist up, kissing and exploring each other's body with their hands.

'Hiro,' Ando whispered after a while. 'Hiro, I...I want to touch you.'

'You are touching me,' Hiro said with a smile.

Ando shook his head and his cheeks flushed. 'No, I mean...I want to touch you.'

'Oh.' Hiro's face burned, and his eyes went dark with desire. 'Oh.'

'Its okay if you don't-'

'No, I do,' Hiro blurted. 'But can I...can I touch you back?'

Ando swallowed heavily and nodded. Hiro grinned and kissed him again. It slowly deepened, and Hiro let out a pleased sigh as Ando stroked up and down his back once again. Ando kissed along Hiro's collarbone and let his hands drift down to Hiro's hips. Hiro's breathing sped up in anticipation. He could feel Ando's heart thudding in his chest and his breath puffing against Hiro's cheek. Hiro let his hands rest in the small of Ando's back. He couldn't remember ever being so happy or feeling so...completed.

Then Ando's fingers brushed between Hiro's legs and made his entire body jolt.

'Oh,' Hiro choked. 'Ando...'

'Shhh,' Ando soothed and stroked more confidentially. 'I'm here.'

Hiro bit his lower lip and whimpered. 'Ando-kun...' Beneath the covers his hands trembled as they found Ando's length and touched him softly. Ando drew in a sharp breath and rocked forward slowly, speeding up the rhythm of his own hand as he did so. This proved to be too much for Hiro; his hips shot forward and he came hard, burying his face in the crook of Ando's neck. Even before his own tremors stopped, Hiro tightened his grip on Ando and rubbed enthusiastically. Ando came a minute later, shuddering in Hiro's arms and nipping at his earlobe.

'Ah,' Ando panted. 'Hiro...'

'We made a mess,' Hiro said breathlessly, smiling at Ando fondly. 'We're bad house guests.'

'You're right,' said Ando. He let his head fall back onto his pillow and sighed. 'But we'll worry about that in the morning.'

Hiro hummed to himself and snuggled against Ando's side as they waited for their breathing to return to normal. 'I wish I hadn't waited so long,' Hiro said finally.

'Better late than never.' Ando slung his arm around Hiro's shoulders and toyed with his hair. 'You need a hair cut. It's getting too long.'

'Like future me,' Hiro murmured. He was feeling content, warm, and drowsy. The rise and fall of Ando's chest beneath his cheek was quickly lulling him to sleep. 'Were we like this, Ando-kun, in the future? I never saw you...'

Ando kissed the top of Hiro's head and squeezed him more tightly. 'I don't know if we were like this, Hiro-kun,' he said in a whisper. 'But I was with you.'


	7. Chapter 7

November 2, 7:30 a.m.

Nathan Petrelli flipped the lights on in his sons' room, picked his way over matchbox cars and Lego's, and threw open the curtains. 'Ten minutes to breakfast. Get up and move, boys.'

Simon groaned and sat up, rubbing at his eyes. 'Too early.'

'I got you up ten minutes late. You need to get downstairs or I'll face your mother's wrath,' said Nathan. He stepped over to Monty's bed and shook the boy gently.

'Time to get up, slugger.'

'I'm awake,' Monty mumbled without opening his eyes.

'He's just going to go back to sleep once you leave,' said Simon as he slid out of bed and started rummaging through his dresser. 'Mom always makes him put his feet on the floor so she knows he's awake.'

'Sounds good to me,' Nathan laughed. 'Up you go then, kiddo.'

Monty opened his eyes and glared at his brother before sighing dramatically and sitting up. 'Is this okay?'

'That's excellent.' Nathan patted his son on the shoulder and left him to get up and get dressed. As he crossed to the door, he paused by his other son and kissed him on the forehead. 'No more tattling from you, okay?'

Simon smiled. 'Okay.'

Nathan cuffed the boy playfully and left the room, shutting the door behind him. He turned around and nearly ran right smack into his own brother who had suddenly materialized out of nowhere.

'Peter,' Nathan said in a low voice. 'Do not do that in my house, especially where my boys could see you.'

'I waited until the door was shut,' Peter pointed out. 'I wanted to talk to you. In private.'

Nathan shook his head and started down the hallway towards the stairs. 'Not now, Pete; I've got a lot of things on my mind.'

'Things like Claire?' Peter caught his brother by the shoulder, halting him. 'You're really going to let Mom take her away to Paris tomorrow? After everything that's happened?'

'We've talked about this already. This is what's best for everybody. I'm not going to talk about it again.' Nathan shrugged off Peter's hand and started to move away, but Peter caught him again.

'Best for everybody, or best for you? Nathan, if what I've been seeing happens, if I explode, then Claire is the only one who can get close enough to stop me!'

Nathan shoved him away roughly. 'Enough of that, okay?' Nathan said in a low, dangerous voice. 'If you're so convinced that its going to happen, then you need to think of another way to stop it. Take yourself out to the middle of the desert and stay there until the day passes. Find Suresh and talk to him; he said something about a cure. Do whatever you want, Pete, but this bomb, whatever it is? If its supposed to happen then there's nothing you, or Claire, or anybody else can do to stop it. If its supposed to happen then all we can do is react to it in the best way we can.'

Peter stared at him. 'What the hell are you talking about? "Supposed to happen?"'

Nathan opened his mouth to respond but before he could the boys' bedroom door banged open and Simon tattled 'Dad, Monty went back to sleep again!'

'Tell him I'll be in in one minute, and he'd better be up and dressed,' Nathan called over his shoulder. Simon ran back into the room, slamming the door behind him, and Nathan sighed.

'Look, Peter,' he began, but Peter had vanished again. Downstairs the front door shut nosily, startling the maid who was just coming into the room. Nathan closed his eyes briefly. The day had only just started and he already had a headache.

November 2nd, 8:45 a.m.

Ando woke to someone rapping on the apartment door. Hiro was curled up beside him, snoring gently with his arm flung over Ando's chest. He'd stolen Ando's pillow sometime in the night and every time he exhaled his breath tickled Ando's neck. Ando smiled and nudged Hiro gently.

'Somebody's knocking on the door.'

'Suresh's apartment,' Hiro mumbled. 'He can get it.'

'He'll see us on the couch.'

'Don't care. You're comfortable and warm and I'm not moving.' He licked Ando's neck, making him gasp. 'Mm. And you taste good.'

The knocking grew louder.

'Hiro, stop that,' Ando's voice was strained. 'Its inappropriate when somebody's knocking on the door.'

'You're inappropriate!' Hiro smiled and finally opened his eyes. 'You're the one with his hand on my leg.'

Ando mumbled something unintelligible and moved his arm so it was around Hiro's waist. Hiro laughed. The person at the door paused in their knocking.

'Mohinder?' called a voice. 'Dr. Suresh?'

Ando sat up. 'I know who that is!'

Hiro sat up and fumbled for his glasses. 'Hmm?'

'That voice! Its Peter Petrelli.'

'Petrelli?' Hiro said excitedly as he adjusted his glasses. 'Here?'

'I can hear somebody,' said Peter Petrelli on the other side of the door. 'Please answer; I need to talk to Dr. Suresh.'

'We'd better answer the door,' said Hiro.

'You do it!' Ando exclaimed, leaping up. 'I'm going to the bathroom. I need a shower.'

'But-'

'Go on! I'll be out in ten minutes; I'm not answering the door like this.'

'Ando-kun!' Hiro protested, but Ando just flashed him a grin and disappeared into the bathroom. 'Not fair!'

The knocking intensified. Apparently Peter Petrelli was relentless.

'Be right there!' Hiro called looking around frantically for his shirt and unable to find it. 'Where is Suresh?' He wondered aloud, glancing at Mohinder's bedroom door. No noise came from it; there was no sign that the professor was even in there. Frowning and slightly confused, Hiro tugged the sheet off of the pull out couch and wrapped it around his shoulders. This was going to be embarrassing and not at all how he pictured meeting Peter Petrelli for the first time.

Hiro edged around the couch and over to the front door with the sheet trailing behind him like a cape. Taped over the peephole on the front door was a scribbled note. Hiro could barely read it.

Hiro and Ando,

I've gone to see what I can find on Sylar's whereabouts. Please don't leave until I've returned. Help yourselves to whatever is in the kitchen. I'll be back shortly.

Suresh.

Well, that explained one thing at least. Hiro looked around for a place to put the note, couldn't find one, and ended up sticking it back on the door. Then, taking a deep breath to steel himself for the utter humiliation that was about the befall him, he unlocked the door and opened it.

'Peter Petrelli.' Hiro smiled and bowed, though his cheeks were burning.

Peter stared at him, then blinked. 'Hiro?' he asked incredulously. 'Hiro Nakamura?'

'Yes,' Hiro admitted, averting his eyes. 'That's me.'

'You're...you look...different.' Peter's lips twitched as he tried not to laugh. 'You sound different.'

'I know. I'm not mean and scary yet.'

At this, Peter laughed out loud. 'No, you're not that. What are you doing here?'

Hiro stood aside so Peter could come through the door and said 'Long story.'


	8. Chapter 8

November 2, 9:56 a.m.

Nathan Petrelli was scheduled to meet with Kaito Nakamura at 10:00 a.m, so at precicesly 9:55 Nathan made sure he was ready and standing out on his front porch ready to greet his guest. His mother had told him many things in preparation for this meeting, but the one thing she had stressed above all else was that Nathan had to be one step ahead of Kaito at all times. Nathan was to be poised, polite, and meticulously prepared. He was never to show suprise about anything. Whatever Kaito told him, Nathan had to appear to already know. It was a game that most politicians played and Nathan was luckily rather good at it.

The house was completely empty except for Nathan. Even the housestaff had been sent home; Nathan would be explaining that one to Heidi when she returned home in the evening. There was no one around to interrupt. The spat Nathan had had with Peter earlier in the morning, while unpleasant, had gauranteed that Peter wouldn't be popping in unexpectedly for at least a day.

Nathan had only been standing on his front porch for about a minute when he spotted a black SUV coming down the street. Two more followed it. Not exactly subtle, but the neighbors were used to politicians coming and going from the Petrelli house and wouldn't pay them any mind. The SUV's stopped in a line along the curb, but for several minutes nobody got out. Nathan shifted slightly, feeling unseen eyes peering at him. The foyer clock began to chime the tenth hour, and the passenger door of the middle SUV finally opened. Nathan sighed inwardly with relief as Kaito Nakamura stepped out.

Instead of coming down the walkway to greet Nathan, Kaito remained standing by his vehicle and watched the other man make his way towards him.

'Mr. Nakamura,' said Nathan as he approached. 'Nathan Petrelli. I'm glad you could make it.'

Kaito nodded and the back door of the SUV opened. A young woman in a snappy business suit climbed out and regarded Nathan warily.

'Kimiko Nakamura,' she said with a short bow. Nathan bowed back, somewhat suprised.

'You're...' he began.

'My daughter,' Kaito finished in nearly flawless English, which was another suprise given what Nathan knew of Hiro. 'She will be joining us.'

'Pleased to meet you,' Nathan said. 'Both of you.' He glanced at the other vehicles on the street. 'Is there anyone else?'

'No,' Kaito said shortly, disregarding Nathan's curious glance. 'This is a family matter.'

'Of course.' Nathan smiled his best politician's smile. 'Please follow me.'

He lead the way into the house. Kaito made no noise as he walked but Kimiko's high heels clacked loudly on the cement. Nathan found himself wondering about the woman and her father. It was hard to reconcile Hiro's loud, boundless energy with these two quiet and reserved individuals. And just who was in those other cars anyway? Bodygaurds?

Once inside the house, Kimiko spoke. 'You have a lovely home.' Her voice was soft and her accent was thicker than her father's, Nathan noted.

'Thank you,' he replied graciously and shut the inside door. As soon as it clicked shut, Kaito rounded on Nathan.

'Its good of you to meet with us,' Kaito said, 'since your Mother apparently found it neccessary to interrupt our lives but not see us herself.'

'She'll have her reasons,' Nathan said easily. 'Shall we have a seat in the living room?'

Without waiting for a reply Nathan found a seat and took it. Kimiko followed his lead. Kaito remained standing.

'This is not a social visit,' he said. 'I did not come here to play politician's games.'

'Mr. Nakamura, I'm a politician. Politician's games are all I know. I'd appreciate it if you humored me.'

Kaito watched him with narrowed eyes for a moment longer and then took a seat next to Kimiko. Nathan smiled softly. Small victories.

'This shouldn't take long, Mr. Nakamura, I know you're a busy man. My mother told me all about Yamagato.' Nathan was all smiles and courtesy. Kaito's eyes flashed.

'Did she.'

'She certainly did,' Nathan nodded. 'One of the leaders in technological and medicinal research, I understand, on the surface at least. I imagine its the other side of your company, though, that takes up most of your time. Am I right?'

Kimiko glanced at her father who remained silently watching Nathan. Nathan paused for a moment and then continued.

'You find people, correct? Special people, people that can do amazing things. You find them, take them in, show them how to use whatever special ability it is they have. Once they've mastered their skill, you conceal their identity and put them to work all over the world. You have people everywhere, but most of them are in some sort of influential position. Government, law inforcement, education, the media. Hundreds of people, maybe thousands, all working for Yamagato. With a snap of your fingers you could influence dozens of societies to behave in anyway you see fit. That's pretty impressive, Mr. Nakamura.'

'I don't seek to influence anybody, Mr. Petrelli. The information I gain from my company is used to protect, defend, and educate,' Kaito said. 'Though no doubt your mother has told you differently.'

'She wants to change things,' Nathan said. 'For the better. I do, too.'

'Do you think you can do that by destroying a city?' Kaito said, then smiled as he caught a glimpse of the suprise that Nathan couldn't keep off of his face. 'You think that understanding and unity can come out of fear and anger? The world doesn't need to be wounded in order to heal, Mr. Petrelli.'

'I'm starting to see where your son gets his optimism,' Nathan murmered.

'Yes,' Kaito said as he sat back. 'Tell me what you think you know about my son. That is what you had us come all this way for, isn't it?'

'Part of it,' Nathan agreed. 'Though I suspect you already know what I'm about to tell you.'

'I know a great deal about Hiro that he himself isn't even aware of,' Kaito said. 'But say what you will. You might surprise me.'

Nathan paused, uncertain of how to describe Hiro's ability without sounding like a complete lunatic. There was a huge difference between being able to fly and being able to manipulate the universe itself. Nathan scarcely believed it was possible himself. Kimiko was watching him somewhat apprehensively; Kaito's expression was unreadable. Perhaps just saying it bluntly would be best.

Nathan shook his head slightly and began to speak, but before he got one word out the front door opened and shut loudly. Nathan cursed inwardly and stood up, ready to shoo whoever it was away as quickly as possible.

'Oh Nathan, calm down; its just me,' came Angela Petrelli's voice from the hallway. A moment later she appeared in the doorway, smiling grimly and looking more ill at ease than Nathan could remember ever seeing her.

'Ma?' Nathan asked, feeling his composure slip a little.

'I decided it was time to stop running away from old ghosts,' said Angela. Kaito stood up and Angela gave him a look full of venom.

'We're all adults here, Kaito,' she said. 'Surely we can have a conversation without fighting.'

November 2, 11:39 a.m.

'...so we came to Dr. Suresh to see if he could help us,' Hiro finished with a shrug. Next to him, Ando nodded. Peter Petrelli stared at them both, trying to process all the information he'd just been given.

'That's...quite a story,' he said. Indeed, Hiro hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said it was a 'long story.' It had taken nearly two hours for Hiro to explain everything. Ten minutes after Peter entered the apartment Ando had come out of the bathroom and nearly had a fit when he'd seen Hiro sitting there chatting in a sheet. They'd bickered in Japanese and then Hiro had been banished to the bathroom to get dressed while Ando apologized profusely. Peter had found the whole thing incredibly amusing but refrained from laughing out loud.

'The future,' Hiro said, 'was very bad.'

'Definitely sounds that way.' Peter exhaled sharply and brushed his hair out of his eyes. 'Killing Sylar stops it from happening?'

'We think so,' Ando replied.

'No explosion, no government that hates special people,' Hiro added.

'Yeah, but..can you do it though?' Peter didn't want to be offensive, but Hiro hardly seemed like the kind of person who could murder another human being.

'I'll do what I must,' Hiro said softly, lowering his eyes. Ando glanced at him and frowned.

'Maybe you don't have to do it, Hiro,' he said and looked at Peter. 'Maybe you can.'

'Me?' Peter shook his head. 'I already tried to fight him once. He ended up killing me.'

'But you're alive,' Ando pointed out. 'You already told us that you have the cheerleader's regeneration power.'

'Claire, her name is Claire,' Peter said absently. 'And yeah, I do. But I still couldn't stop him.'

'But you can't get hurt!' Ando insisted. 'Hiro can.'

'Hiro can freeze time,' Peter said, becoming slightly irritated.

'So can you, can't you?' Ando stood up. 'Did you say you can do what other people can do?'

'Its not as simple as that!' Peter exclaimed. He sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging with frustration.

'Why not?' Ando said stubbornly. Hiro touched his arm and said his name, but Ando shrugged him off and snapped at him in Japanese. 'Why not?' he asked Peter again.

'Sometimes I can't control the powers.' Peter leapt to his feet and began pacing like a caged animal. 'If Hiro froze time for me, then maybe I could sneak up on Sylar and...'

'But Ando-kun,' Hiro began. 'The comic-'

'Is just a comic!' Ando exclaimed. 'Does everything in it have to happen exactly as its drawn?'

'Issac can paint the future,' Peter said. 'Everything he's painted so far has come true. I've seen it.'

'But maybe it doesn't have to be Hiro who kills Sylar,' Ando said desperately. 'Is the future set in stone?'

Nobody answered. Peter didn't know what to say. Finally, Hiro stood up and touched Ando's shoulder. The two of them conversed in Japanese. Peter watched them intently. Hiro's tone was soothing; Ando's was imploring. Different emotions flickered across his face as Hiro spoke. There was a lull in the conversation and Hiro touched Ando's hand with a tenderness that Peter was almost certain should have been private. When Ando finally spoke, it was very soft. Even if Peter had been able to understand the language he wouldn't have been able to hear the words.

Hiro listened carefully to what Ando was saying and a fearful expression slowly crept over his features. He said something loudly and Ando shook his head. Hiro continued to talk, his tone growing more agitated until Ando interrupted him and looked him directly in the eyes. Peter watched as Hiro's eyes widened and all the color drained from his face. His breath literally halted. Peter's eyes darted back and forth between the two men.

'What?' Peter asked. 'What's wrong?'

They ignored him. 'No, you can't,' Hiro whispered in stilted English. 'You can't...die.'


	9. Chapter 9

November 2, 11: 56 a.m.

'Is the future set in stone?' Ando asked desperately. Hiro looked at him, concerned and uncertain of what to say. Silence hung in the air as Ando looked from Hiro to Peter and then back again. Nobody had an answer. Hiro decided that saying something was better than letting the silence continue, so he stood up and touched Ando's shoulder gently.

'Ando-kun,' he said. 'If this is what I have to do, then I'll do it. I won't fail.'

'And if you kill him, what will you do?' Ando looked at him imploringly. 'I know you, Hiro, you're not a killer.'

'This man has done terrible things,' Hiro said softly. 'You saw what happens if he's allowed to go free. I know it will be hard to...to kill a man. If I think about it too much, I start to doubt myself. It's not something I ever thought I'd have to do.'

'Then why won't you let someone else take care of it?' Ando asked.

'Because a hero always does what he must to save those that he loves,' said Hiro. Ando's face fell and he averted his eyes quickly. Hiro reached out and touched Ando's hand. Ando's fingers brushed Hiro's palm gently before being pulled away.

'I have to tell you something, Hiro-kun,' Ando said so softly Hiro had to lean closer to catch the words. 'I didn't want you to know, but...I think that maybe if I tell you before it happens you won't become so...hardened.'

Hiro didn't understand, but something about the way Ando spoke filled him with dread. 'What do you mean? What are you talking about? Is it about what happened last night?'

Ando shook his head quickly, but still did not speak.

'Then what?' Hiro asked, becoming more frightened. 'Are you sick? Hurt? I knew something was wrong when we got back; I should have said something. I'm sorry I-'

Ando locked eyes with Hiro and the look in his eyes was so full of sorrow and fear that Hiro stopped talking before Ando even spoke.

'I'm going to die, Hiro.'

For a moment the words didn't make sense and Hiro nearly scolded Ando for talking gibberish at such an inappropriate time. Then the words penetrated his shock stunned mind and the world spun.

'It happens the day of the bomb,' Ando was continuing. 'Sylar...kills me.'

Die...kills me... The words resonated in Hiro's ears. He couldn't breathe, he could hardly think. From faraway he heard Peter speak, asking what was wrong. Hiro wanted to rage at him, scream at him, tell him that everything was wrong because Ando had said that he was going to die and if that was true then the world couldn't be saved after all.

'No, you can't,' Hiro whispered, speaking in English because as long as it wasn't spoken in his native language then it couldn't possibly be true. 'You can't...' The last word caught in his throat and Hiro had to swallow before he could finish. '...die.'

Ando smiled bitterly. 'We all die, Hiro, at one point or another.'

Hiro shook his head vigorously. 'No, no. You're wrong, you have to be. That's not how things work.'

'You don't believe me?'

Unable to speak, Hiro watched as Ando dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. 'You said yourself you never saw me in the future. Look; here, it'll show you.' Ando thrust the paper in Hiro's direction.

Hiro recoiled and banged into the couch. His blood pounded in his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut. Silently he counted to ten, hoping that when he opened his eyes again Ando would say that it was all a big joke, ha ha on Hiro. Hiro took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Ando was still standing there with the paper in his outstretched hand and his eyes pleading for Hiro to understand.

'You're not making this up, are you?' Hiro said softly like a child begging his parents to tell him that they boogeyman wasn't real.

'No, Hiro-kun,' Ando said. 'I'm not. Please take it and see; I can't stand being the only one knowing...'

With trembling hands Hiro reached out and took the paper, letting his fingers linger deliberately on Ando's. Peter watched the entire exchange with wide eyes and felt more like an outsider than ever before. Hiro barely noticed him as he unfolded the paper and forced himself to take in the black and white image.

At once Hiro understood what had caused Ando's mind to react so violently that it caused him to faint the day before. For Hiro, seeing the image of Ando twisted and broken in a dirty street was like a knife to the chest. For Ando himself it must have been utterly terrifying.

Hiro dropped the paper as if it had burned him. As it fluttered to the carpeted floor he turned to Ando and said the first thing that popped into his head.

'I'm so sorry.' His breath hitched and he felt tears burning his eyes. 'I'm so sorry,' he said again, switching to Japanese. 'It's not fair. It's not fair! We just found each other.'

Ando just shook his head and looked away. Hiro stepped forward to touch him, hug him, hold him, anything to reassure himself that Ando was still there. Ando met his eyes briefly and glanced at Peter, his message clear. This was their own private grief; dealing with it would have to wait until they were alone.

Impatient and fearful, Hiro turned to Peter. Peter was staring at the comic page on the ground and he started when Hiro spoke to him.

'Please excuse us,' Hiro said, his voice surprisingly steady though tears threatened to spill onto his cheeks. 'We have to discuss this. It is very important.'

'Yeah...' Peter mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. 'Yeah, of course.'

Hiro turned away from him sharply, grabbed Ando by the hand, and led him unprotestingly into Mohinder's bedroom. At the doorway, Hiro paused and turned back towards Peter, feeling he should say something more in the way of explanation but unable to think clearly enough to find the words. At any rate, Peter was bending over to pick up the fallen comic and didn't look in Hiro's direction. With an air of finality, Hiro turned and snapped the door shut behind him. Ando was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling inexplicably.

'Did you have to lead me into the bedroom? That's not very subtle, Hiro.'

'Ssh. How can you joke at a time like this?' Hiro exclaimed, wiping at his eyes furiously. 'We have to come up with a way to stop this. You have to leave, get away, go back home to Japan.'

'No, Hiro.' Ando stood up and grabbed Hiro's hands to keep them still. 'I'm not going to leave. Your destiny is to stop Sylar and mine is to help you. Stopping Sylar might save me.' He paused and swallowed heavily. 'But if it doesn't...if it happens then you have to accept it. You'll have to move on and not let guilt over something you can't control take over you.'

Hiro shook his head and tried to pull away, but Ando held his hands fast.

'I can't lose you,' Hiro whispered. 'I won't let you die. I'm going to save you.' He leaned forward so he and Ando were pressed together, forehead to forehead. 'No matter what.'

Ando tightened his grip on Hiro's hands, and then pulled back enough to look Hiro in the eyes. He smiled sadly and brushed his thumb over Hiro's cheek. 'You look like you do in the future, with that look in your eye. Have you given up hope already?'

'No,' Hiro said, catching Ando's hand and placing a kiss on his palm. 'I'm going to save you.'

Ando looked at him very seriously and appeared to mull something over in his head. Hiro watched him carefully, but Ando just sighed and said 'We've come a very long way, haven't we?'

'Yes. I couldn't have gotten this far without you, you know.'

'Of course you couldn't; you can barely drive,' Ando teased.

Hiro started to smile, but the image he had seen earlier flashed in his mind. If he couldn't stop Sylar, if he failed, then Ando would never tease him again. For the very first time since he first discovered his powers, Hiro wanted desperately to return to his boring life where he was just a low level cubical worker where the most exciting thing to happen was when Ando tried to steal his lunch every day. It seemed so far away. Hiro was really going to have to take a person's life and Ando could really die and be gone forever.

Hiro blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his head. The thoughts were too heavy, too oppressing, too dark. They were horrifying. Ando mumbled Hiro's name and Hiro surged forward, throwing his arms around Ando's neck and kissing him desperately on the lips. Ando's lips burned beneath Hiro's, a tangible reminder that no matter what the future held they were both alive and in the present.

Ando let out a content sigh and the sound made Hiro's body flair to life. He dragged his fingers through the hair at Ando's nape and breathed in the faint scent of the soap Ando had used during his shower earlier. He could feel Ando's hands drifting down his back, cupping his backside and pressing them closer together. Hiro shivered and dragged fingernails up along Ando's spine, making his back arch.

'Need you...'Ando mumbled against Hiro's lips.

Hiro's head was swimming. This wasn't like the night before, with hesitant, exploratory touches and exciting discoveries. This was desperate, frantic, burning. Every sense was alive and heightened; every touch left a line of fire in its wake, every gasp seemed to echo off the walls. Hiro could feel the heat of Ando's body even through the layers of their clothing. The sensations were almost overwhelming; Hiro was not used to this.

Something hard banged against Hiro's back, startling him out of his almost meditative state. It was the door; Ando had backed him into it and Hiro hadn't even been aware that they were moving. Apparently, Ando hadn't either.

'Shouldn't have done that,' he muttered, nuzzling Hiro's neck. His heart was beating frantically, ticking like an out of control clock, and his voice was husky and breathless.

Hiro breathed deeply and slid his hands up under Ando's shirt to let his fingertips trace over the softness of Ando's abdomen and up to the beating source of his life's blood. Hiro's hands lingered there momentarily, counting each heartbeat in his head.

Live, he willed Ando silently. I will not fail you, I swear it.


	10. Chapter 10

November 2, 12: 39 p.m.

Mohinder thanked his waitress as she set down his tea and glanced at the clock on his cell phone. Thompson was ten minutes late. This was not only ridiculously rude, it was also making Mohinder regret calling him in the first place. The man practically oozed insincerity, and in the brief conversations Mohinder had had with him there had always been the uncomfortable sense that Thompson was laughing at him.

Irritated, Mohinder snapped his cell phone shut. His tea was rapidly cooling, but he no longer had any desire to drink it. He'd give Thompson five more minutes; if he didn't show, then Mohinder would leave and take his data elsewhere. Thompson's company surely wasn't the only place in New York that had use for a genetisist.

The little bell over the cafe door jangled and Mohinder looked up expectantly. He was disappointed to see only an elderly Asian woman in a bland jogging suit come in and greet the host cheerfully. Outside the woman's massive Great Dane peered through the store front window and fogged up the glass with its panting. Mohinder studied the animal distastefully. He had never really cared for dogs.

Mohinder checked his phone again. 12: 41. Four more minutes to go. Mohinder shifted in his chair. Hiro's comic book of the future crinkled in his jacket pocket. Mohinder was tempted to take it out and flip through it again, but guilt over having swiped it in the first place prevented him. Besides, he wasn't entirely certain that he wanted Thompson to see it if he ever showed up.

The bell over the door jangled as the Asian woman went out. Thompson was holding the door open for her; she thanked him with a smile. Mohinder glared at the man peevishly. He had half a mind to simply get up and follow the woman out without so much as a word to Thompson. He didn't, though. He just sat back and finally sipped at his lukewarm tea.

Thompson approached him with a congenial smile. 'Dr. Suresh, so sorry to keep you waiting. Problems at the office.'

'I imagine you aren't sorry at all, and I also imagine that your office problem is something I don't want to know about.' Mohinder set his cup down. 'I don't trust you, but I suspect you already know that.'

Thompson shrugged and sat down at the other side of the table. 'Yet you called me anyway.'

'There are some things I need. I figure you can help me get them since I have something you need.'

'And what might that be, Dr. Suresh?' Thompson asked with that maddening smile.

'My father's formula. You wanted it badly enough that you broke into his apartment to get it and set one of your people to spy on me. I'd guess that your people haven't magically come up with a similar formula over the last few weeks, even with your research or whatever it is you do.'

'These things you need,' Thompson began, then paused as the waitress came over and took his order. 'They wouldn't happen to have anything to do with our good friend Gabriel Grey, would they?'

'One of them,' Mohinder admitted. 'I want him stopped and I've met someone who believes that they can stop him.'

Thompson leaned forward. 'And who might that be?'

Mohinder shook his head. 'You get no names from me, yet, Mr. Thompson. You have yet to earn my trust or my respect and until you do...you get nothing.'

'That seems a bit unfair to me,' Thompson drawled. 'You demand information from me and offer me nothing in return.'

'Look at this as a chance to prove you're trustworthy. I need information on Sylar. I also need access to a medical laboratory so that I can study some samples I've gotten, but I can get that fairly easily elsewhere.' Mohinder looked Thompson in the eyes. 'If you help me find Sylar, then I'll help you learn all that we can about special abilities.'

'Why is it so important to you to find Gabriel Grey?' Thompson asked. 'Please tell me its for a reason more noble than revenge.'

'He's a murderer,' Mohinder said, narrowing his eyes. 'And he's dangerous.'

'And this person you think can stop him,' Thompson said, regarding Mohinder keenly. 'You think they're less dangerous?'

Mohinder didn't answer. He simply stood up and tossed a few bills on the table. 'I'm not going to contact you again,' he said. 'If you have information for me, get in touch.'

Mohinder began to walk away, but Thompson called his name and he froze.

'Dr. Suresh! We aren't the only one's interested in your research. A bigwig from a company called Yamagato has arrived in town. He'd be very interested in what you know.' Mohinder could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 'Be wary.'

Without turning around, Mohinder stalked out of the cafe, ignoring the curious stares the other patrons were shooting him. The cold air outside was a shock to his lungs, but Mohinder breathed in deeply anyway. The conversation had gone reasonably well, but Thompson had still managed to make Mohinder feel vaguely claustrophobic.

The walk back to his apartment was a long one and Mohinder was half frozen by the time he trudged up the stairs to his building. Tired and feeling unaccomplished, he rode the elevator up to his floor.

'Mr. Nakamura?' He called as he entered his apartment and shut the door behind him. 'Hiro? Ando?'

There was no immediate answer so Mohinder hung up his jacket and returned to the living room where his two guests had spent the night. He stopped short in the doorway. Peter Petrelli was standing in his living room, holding a piece of paper and looking mildly embarrassed.

'Sorry, they let me in...' he muttered.

Mohinder stared at the other man in shock. 'You're dead,' he said. 'Sylar killed you, right here in this very room.'

'Yeah, about that,' Peter muttered, scratching the back of his neck. 'I picked up healing abilities from a girl...when the glass came out, I came back.'

'You healed that?' Mohinder asked, surprised. 'I had no idea you could do that. Spontaneous regeneration, is that it?'

Peter shrugged and smiled shyly. 'I guess so. It comes in pretty handy when fighting psychopathic super villains.'

Mohinder laughed and shook his head in disbelief. He approached Peter and circled around him, then laughed again in awe when he saw the unblemished flesh at the back of Peter's head. 'Absolutely remarkable.' He reached out and touched, just to be sure it wasn't some sort of optical illusion. 'What can't you do, Mr. Petrelli?'

'Stop Sylar, apparently.' Peter turned so he was facing Mohinder. 'He got away, didn't he?'

Mohinder nodded. 'I have no idea where he went, either, but I've been trying to find out. Hiro-'

'Thinks he can stop him.' Peter smiled and flipped his hair out of his eyes. 'I know, believe me. They're uh..' He nodded at Mohinder's bedroom. 'In there.'

Mohinder blinked. 'What on earth could they possibly...'

'Talking,'Peter said quickly. 'About this.' He passed the paper to Mohinder, who took it hesitantly.

'My god,' Mohinder murmured as he took in the drawing. 'Is that..?'

'Hiro's Ando. Its from the comic book that Isaac Mendez drew. Apparently Ando got it from the future, but he just told Hiro about it.' Peter looked at the closed door sadly. 'Hiro was upset about it.'

'What does this say?' Mohinder asked. He'd flipped the paper over and was now examining what looked like Japanese Kanji that was scrawled all over the back side. Peter moved over to Mohinder's side and looked at it.

'I don't know,' Peter said with a frown. 'I didn't notice it before and they didn't say anything about it.'

'Strange...' Mohinder muttered to himself, then handed the paper back to Peter. 'I need to speak to them anyway. I think I may be getting information that can help us find Sylar.'

He started for the bedroom door, but Peter caught his shoulder and stopped him. 'Wait,' said Peter with his eyes on the door. 'Wait until they come out on their own. I think it hit Hiro pretty hard.'

Mohinder studied Peter's face. 'You really are an empath, aren't you?'

Peter smiled ruefully. 'That's what they keep telling me.'

Kimiko and Nathan were both adults and had been for many, many years. They both had a lot of responsibility riding on their shoulders and they were both capable of making decisions that would effect large numbers of people. Yet there they were, banished to the dining room like children while their parents argued loudly in the other room. They sat awkwardly at opposite ends of the table, avoiding each other's eyes and flinching every time Kaito or Angela said something particularly loud.

'Absolutely out of the question,' Kaito was shouting. 'You haven't changed at all, I see.'

Kimiko flushed, somewhat embarrassed by her father's temper. It had been years since she had been on the receiving end of his anger; Hiro had always been more likely to be shouted out than she had. She was glad it wasn't directed at her now.

Nathan sighed loudly and Kimiko glanced at him. He was rubbing at the back of his neck and wincing as if he had a headache. He probably did. Kimiko concentrated slightly and sent a cool breeze at him, hoping to ease his tension a bit. He looked up, confused, and Kimiko couldn't help but smile to herself as he studied the window as if looking for a crack.

'...happen one way or another,' Angela said loudly. 'And so help me, Kaito...' Her voice grew indecipherable.

Nathan shifted in his chair. 'I'm sorry; I've been a bad host,' he said, almost to himself. 'Can I get you anything.'

'No, thank you,' Kimiko said quietly. She paused. 'Did you really meet my brother?'

'A few times,' Nathan said with a nod. 'Nice kid.'

'Did he look well?'

'Right as rain. Well,' Nathan smiled. 'Except for the whole 'save the world' thing.'

'You don't think he can, with his power?' Kimiko asked, almost teasingly.

'I think some things can't be changed,' Nathan said seriously. 'No matter how badly we want them to.'

'I think you're right,' Kimiko said softly. 'But Hiro has always believed in the impossible. I think you're a good man, Mr. Petrelli. Your mother says that if we don't bring Hiro home, you will turn him over to Linderman. But I don't think you will.'

'You're wrong,' Nathan said quickly. 'I have to do what's best. I wouldn't like giving Linderman information on your brother, but I will if I have to. You have to convince him to leave. I don't know if your father can, but I suspect you'd be able to. I'm asking you to try.'

Kimiko regarded Nathan somberly for a moment. 'My grandfather was a young man when Hiroshima was bombed,' she said finally. 'Up until the day he died he refused to talk about it, telling us only that it must never, ever happen again, to anybody. Such destruction, such death, such pain...it can only breed fear and resentment. How can that lead to anything good?'

'Fear brings unity,' Nathan recited.

'But only against a perceived enemy,' Kimiko protested. 'What enemy do you think the people will be united against?'

Nathan did not answer. He only looked at Kimiko thoughtfully as the sound of their parents' angry voices drifted through the walls.


	11. Chapter 11

November 2, 1: 21 p.m.

Ando heard the apartment door close and reluctantly pulled away from Hiro. 'Suresh is back,' he said in a low voice.

Hiro let his hands fall to his sides and sighed, looking somewhat crestfallen. 'We should go talk to him. Maybe he has information.'

Ando nodded, but didn't move. The murmur of low voices drifted in from the other room, but nobody knocked on the door. For that, Ando was grateful. He still had some things to say.

'I want you to know,' he said slowly. 'That no matter what happens, I don't blame you. For anything.'

Hiro bit his lower lip and Ando was again struck by the fierce desire to protect him and keep him safe, which was strange considering that he was the one with the prophesized death. Hiro was an idealist and had been all his life. Pain hit him harder than it did most people, and while Ando would do his best to keep him from physical harm there was nothing he could do to protect Hiro from his own sense of failure or guilt.

'You could still leave,' Hiro said quietly.

Ando shook his head. 'I told you I won't,' he said. 'And that's my choice.'

Hiro sighed heavily. 'We'd better go talk to Mr. Suresh, then.'

He turned to open the door and had his hand on the door knob when Ando stepped up behind him and slid his arms around Hiro's waist.

'I know we argue a lot,' Ando said as he pulled Hiro backwards so that they were pressed together, back to chest. 'And sometimes you drive me crazy. But...' He pressed a kiss to Hiro's throat. 'Later, I'm going to show you exactly how much you mean to me.'

Hiro's cheeks colored slightly, but he smiled and rested his hands over Ando's. 'Later.'

Ando nodded and released him reluctantly. 'Let's go.'

Peter and Mohinder were talking at Mohinder's desk when Hiro and Ando left the bedroom. Both of them had smiles on their faces and Mohinder's voice was cheerful when he noticed his two guests.

'Ah, there you are,' Mohinder said. 'I was just telling Peter that I'm probably going to be getting some information on Sylar very shortly. I met a man today who said he could help; I'm expecting his phone call. Did anybody stop by while I was gone?'

Hiro shook his head and Ando said 'No, just Peter.'

'Good,' Mohinder said, seemingly relieved. 'The man I spoke with seemed to think that I'd be getting a visit from some head of a company. Apparently there are more people interested in my research than I'd previously thought.'

'What company?' Peter asked curiously.

Mohinder shrugged. 'Some foreign firm, Yamagato I think. Anyway, it might not have even been true...what?' Mohinder asked as Hiro and Ando exchanged glances.

'I think your father is stalking us,' Ando muttered in Japanese.

'I thought he went home,' Hiro said, frowning. 'Could be someone else.'

'In New York? Strange coincidence,' Ando said skeptically. Then, in English, he said to Mohinder, 'We used to work for Yamagato, back in Japan. Hiro's father...he is CEO.'

Mohinder looked at Hiro sharply. 'I thought you were an office worker.'

'I was,' Hiro said morosely. 'I have no 'ambition.''

'No ambition.' Mohinder laughed humorlessly. 'And did he send you here? Send you here to spy on me, steal my research?'

'No!' Hiro exclaimed, shaking his head rapidly.

'Really?' Mohinder scowled. 'It wouldn't be the first time somebody was planted as a spy. It seems I can't trust anyone.'

Hiro looked hurt. 'We came here for your help.'

'We aren't spies,' Ando added. 'We only came here because somebody told us you could help us find Sylar. Besides, if we were supposed to be spying on you why would we mention Yamagato?'

Mohinder fell silent. Peter looked at Hiro and Ando and shrugged. At last Mohinder sighed and passed his hand over his eyes.

'You're right,' Mohinder said finally. 'I'm sorry. Everything that's happened...it's made me terribly paranoid. Not everybody turns out like their fathers. I suppose I should know that as well as anyone.'

'It's alright,' Hiro said. 'You had reason to be suspicious.'

Ando crossed his arms over his chest. He still felt slightly offended by the accusations, but he was willing to let it go if Hiro was. The two of them, spies! Laughable.

Mohinder's apartment phone rang suddenly, startling the lot of them. Mohinder shook himself briefly. 'Almost on cue. That will be my information source. Excuse me.'

He strode quickly over to the phone and answered it. Hiro trailed after him, obviously eager for information. Ando remained where he was and watched.

'Hello? Mr. Thompson, what a surprise...'

The conversation continued but Ando was distracted by a touch on his shoulder. He turned around to face Peter.

'I suppose you want this back,' Peter said, offering the blood stained comic page which was folded once again. Ando glanced at it.

'Not really,' he said. 'I don't think it'll do me or Hiro much good.'

'Maybe not the picture,' Peter allowed. 'But did you see the writing on the back?'

'Writing?'

'I couldn't read it; it's not in English,' Peter said as he unfolded the paper. 'Maybe it's some hint on what we're supposed to do?'

Ando took it and looked it over. The page was literally covered in Kanji, but it wasn't anything particularly helpful. Some dates and city names, but mostly just the same thing over and over again. He shook his head slowly.

'Not very helpful,' he muttered.

'What is it?' Peter asked.

'Some dates and things. Mostly it's just repetitive.' Ando swallowed. 'I'm so sorry. That's what it says.'

'Over and over?' Peter asked quietly. Ando nodded.

'The Hiro I met on the subway was so...different than this one.' Peter gestured at Hiro, who was hovering around Mohinder like an antsy child. 'Sterner. Sadder.' Peter paused as if searching for the right word. 'Darker. It was this that did it, wasn't it? Sylar killing you?'

Ando chuckled, even though it was not at all funny. 'That's what you said. In the future, I mean...when you told me I...'

'He must have loved you very much.' Peter's voice was soft and somewhat awestruck.

'He did. I mean, he does.' Ando folded up the comic page and slipped it into his pocket, deciding to keep it after all. He sighed. 'Look, I barely know you but I want to ask you a favor anyway.'

'Sure,' Peter said easily, but Hiro came bounding over right at that moment with a grin on his face.

'There's a tracking system!' he exclaimed. 'Here, in New York! We can use it to find Sylar.'

Peter looked at Mohinder, who was just putting the phone in its cradle. 'Really? That's great!'

'Yes, well, I think it would be best if I went by myself,' Mohinder said. 'This man who called, Thompson, he isn't exactly-'

The phone rang again, shrilly. Mohinder waited a moment and then picked it up mid-ring. 'Did you forget some-' He stopped speaking abruptly. His eyes went wide and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

'Sylar?!' Mohinder asked incredulously.

November 2, 2:10 p.m.

Claude Raines huddled outside Isaac Mendez's apartment building and wished for a hot cup of coffee. His hands were freezing and he could hardly feel his nose. Bloody New York winters.

It was dangerous to be hanging around Mendez's abode when the man was obviously in cahoots with Bennett, but Claude needed to talk with the little artist too desperately to be cautious. There was no sign of the painter and hadn't been for several hours but Claude was nothing if not patient. He didn't dare go up to the man's apartment directly, not after the tazering incident, but the second Mendez stepped outside Claude would be on him. He had some questions that needed to be answered, specifically questions about a little comic series called 'Ninth Wonders.'

It was after two o'clock when Claude noticed the man in the black trench coat. The guy seemed either drunk or insane; for ten minutes straight he just stood in the middle of the sidewalk and stared up at the building, seemingly oblivious to the curious stares of the other pedestrians that passed him. Claude ignored him for the time being; New York was filled with so many strange people that if you stopped to wonder about every one of them you'd never get anything done.

Then, however, the man appeared to get agitated. He took a cell phone out of his coat pocket, opened it, stared at it, shut it, and opened it again. Then he looked up and down the street as if searching for somebody. His eyes passed briefly over where Claude stood invisible and Claude couldn't help but shudder. Those were the eyes of a psychopath.

Apparently satisfied that no one was going to eavesdrop on him (something that intrigued Claude and made him creep closer to the strange man), the man pressed a button on his cell phone and then put it to his ear.

'Mohinder?' The man asked when the individual on the other end picked up. Claude's ears perked up. He had just recently sent the two Japanese blokes over to a Mohinder Suresh. Coincidence? Not in this crazy world.

Claude slipped away while the trench coat man had what appeared to be an argument with the person on the other end. He watched the man from the shadows, and when the man hung up and started down the street Claude followed him.

The streets were fairly crowded as usual and Claude had to do some fancy maneuvering to keep up with the trench coat man. A man on a bike nearly plowed right into him, and an old woman's dog growled as he went past but Claude paid these things no mind. He kept his gaze focused on the back of the man in the black coat.

Then somehow the man was on the complete opposite side of the street. There he was, drifting past a record store and a few small restaurants as if he'd been walking down that way the entire time. Claude swore, understanding immediately that he was dealing with a special. He dodged his way around a teenager wearing headphones and started across the street, hoping to catch up with the man in the black coat...

...and was struck by an oncoming SUV. Luckily it wasn't going all that fast due to traffic conditions, but Claude was knocked to the ground hard nonetheless. He phased back into visibility as he hit the ground and swore again as pain lanced through his shoulder and arm. He'd been careless; it was incredibly stupid to walk into the street like that, even if (or maybe especially if) one was invisible.

Claude groaned and tried to sit up as the driver climbed out of the vehicle. Dizziness assailed him; he'd hit his head when he fell apparently. The driver rushed over to where Claude lay.

'Guy came out of nowhere!' the driver exclaimed to the onlookers. Behind the SUV, cars were beginning to honk. The noise wasn't pleasant. Claude moaned and shut his eyes briefly.

'I'm alright,' he said from the ground. 'Just got knocked down. No need to make a fuss.'

'Papa, we hit a man,' said a woman's voice. Claude opened his eyes a crack and saw that a pretty young Asian woman had joined the driver. She looked down at Claude with concern.

Embarrassed, Claude sat up, ignoring the dizziness. 'S'alright, love, no harm done. I'll just be up and on my way.'

'But you're bleeding!' the woman protested. Claude put a hand to his forehead; it came away crimson.

'Why so I am,' Claude said mildly. 'Oh well; it's not the worst I've ever had.' He got to his feet and smiled at the woman. He was only a little unsteady. 'See? Perfectly fine.'

'The woman frowned at him. 'We should take you to the hospital.'

Claude shook his head and opened his mouth to refuse, but the words died in his mouth as another man climbed out of the SUV and came to join the woman and the driver. The man raised an eyebrow when his gaze found Claude, but otherwise did not react.

Claude raised his eyes towards the sky and cursed. 'Oh, bugger me,' he grumbled.

Kaito Nakamura just smirked.


	12. Chapter 12

November 2, 2:36 p.m.

Hiro's fingers were digging into Ando's upper arm, but he didn't really realize it until Ando winced and nudged him. Hiro looked down at his hand and loosened his grip, whispering 'sorry' under his breath. Ando made a face at him and Peter glared at both of them and put a finger to his lips in a 'shushing' gesture.

'...if you're truly repentant then...no, there's no one here. Why would there be?' Mohinder was saying. There was a pause and he looked at the other three fearfully. 'Don't be ridiculous. No, wait! Sylar!' Mohinder pulled the phone away from his ear and scowled at it.

'He hung up,' Mohinder said needlessly.

Peter took the phone and looked at the caller ID. 'No good; it was a cell call.'

'Of course it was; you can't expect him to give up his location that easily.' Mohinder sighed. 'He sounded...strange. Regretful, even. No, that's not right. He was confused.'

'Confused about what?' Ando asked.

'He said that he was going to kill a lot of people and that he didn't know why. He said there was no benefit in it, no reason.' Mohinder took the phone from Peter and slammed it down into its receiver.

'The bomb,' Hiro said quietly. 'He knows what's going to happen, somehow.'

'He knows what, but he doesn't know how or why apparently,' Mohinder agreed. 'Incorrigible bastard, what is he playing at?'

'We have to stop him,' Peter said. 'Find him, wherever he is, and stop him. The sooner we do that, the better chance we have of actually succeeding.'

'The tracking system,' Ando said. 'The one you just told us about. We could use that, couldn't we?'

Mohinder nodded. Hiro said nothing. He knew that he would inevitably face Sylar and that when he did one of them would have to die. He knew that intellectually, he just didn't expect to be rushed into the encounter. After all, the comic said he killed Sylar on the day after Nathan Petrelli was elected to Congress. That was still days away...

Ando winced again and Hiro realized that he'd inadvertently tightened his grip on his friend's arm once again.

'You're going to give me a bruise,' Ando said.

Hiro drew his hand away and apologized again. 'I wasn't expecting Sylar to just call on the telephone like that.'

'Neither was I,' Mohinder said. 'I still haven't any idea why he'd call me of all people. At any rate, I don't think he'll call again. He was awfully angry when he hung up. For all I know, he could be coming here directly.'

Ando paled at that and Hiro spoke up immediately. 'Then we should go. Now.'

'Hiro's right,' Peter said. 'The tracking system you were talking about; where is it?'

Hiro tried very hard not to scowl. That hadn't been what he was trying to say.

'Wait a moment; I don't think it would be wise for you or Hiro to go to that place. We don't know exactly what it is they do there or how they treat people with abilities. It could be dangerous for you.' Mohinder paused and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

'I think it's best if I go alone,' he said finally. 'I can get the information we need and then contact you.'

'What should we do then?' Ando asked.

'They can't stay here,' Peter pointed out. 'Not if Sylar could be on his way. If we fight him, we need to fight him on our own terms.'

'Then where can we go?' Hiro asked, secretly overjoyed that he wouldn't have to face Sylar yet after all. 'We don't know very many people in the city.'

'Oh, well that's easy.' Peter smiled. 'You can stay with me. Or with Nathan; I'm sure he won't mind.'

Hiro suspected that wasn't entirely true, but he kept his mouth shut about it. Instead he thanked Peter graciously and turned to Ando. He was surprised to see that Ando didn't look at all happy.

'What's the matter?' Hiro asked in Japanese as Peter began to exchange numbers with Mohinder. 'Did you hear what Peter said?'

'Mmm.' Ando nodded, then sighed. 'Another night on a pull out couch.'

'The last one wasn't so bad,' Hiro reminded him with a nudge.

Ando smiled slightly. 'Yeah. I just wish we didn't keep having to room with people we barely know. If I only have a few nights left, I'd like to spend them just with you.'

Hiro felt as if he'd been slapped and reacted that way. 'Don't say things like that!' he said angrily, keeping his voice low so that Mohinder and Peter wouldn't notice. 'You have lots of nights left!'

'Okay, okay!' Ando looked genuinely surprised at Hiro's outburst. 'It was just a joke.'

'Wasn't funny,' Hiro pouted and crossed his arms, well aware that he was being quite immature and not caring in the slightest. 'Try being optimistic for once.'

'Why, you do enough of that for both of us.' Ando smiled. 'Didn't you hear the rest of what I said?'

'No,' Hiro grunted. 'I only heard the bad part.'

'Don't sulk, idiot.' Ando pushed Hiro playfully and Hiro smiled a little, against his will. 'I said I'd like to spend my nights with just you.'

Hiro gave Ando a sidelong glance and lowered his arms slowly. 'Oh.'

'You see? I was trying to flirt with you and you ruined it.'

'Flirt? With me?' He grinned slowly, feeling happiness bubble up inside.

Ando rolled his eyes. 'No, with the other Nakamura Hiro I've fallen in love with.'

Hiro squeaked and Ando quite literally slapped his hands over his own mouth, looking mortified. Hiro watched as Ando's face slowly turned bright red and for a moment he thought that Ando was going to bolt out the door. Hiro would have laughed if he hadn't been completely struck dumb. He'd known Ando cared about him a great deal, but he'd never really expected to hear him say it.

'Ando-kun loves me,' Hiro sang, grinning broadly.

'Shh, be quiet, they're watching us,' Ando said out of the corner of his mouth, darting a glance at Peter and Monhinder who were indeed watching curiously.

'So? They have no idea what we're saying.' To prove his point, Hiro turned to Peter and Mohinder and gave them the 'okay' sign. 'Hello, Mr. Mohinder,' he said in Japanese. 'Your apartment is extremely messy. You should clean it up. Sorry about your couch. We were very naughty.'

Peter and Mohinder exchanged glances and looked at Hiro incomprehensively. Ando buried his face in his hands and swore repeatedly.

'Me and Ando are ready to go whenever you are,' Hiro said in English. 'Just say the words.'

'Okay,' Peter said slowly, looking amused. 'One of you should probably give Mohinder your cell number.'

Hiro rattled off Ando's number while Peter jotted it down. Mohinder gave Hiro a strange look and opened his mouth to say something, but Peter just shook his head and smiled slightly. Hiro grinned at them both and patted Ando on the back.

'We'll go get ready,' Hiro said and guided Ando away from the other two men. Peter chuckled to himself and Mohinder frowned in confusion. Ando was still hiding behind his hands.

'I'm going to jump out the window,' Ando murmured.

Hiro elbowed him in the ribs. 'Optimism, remember? Cheer up!'

Ando finally peeked at him. 'Maybe I should throw you out the window.'

'You won't!' Hiro said gleefully. 'Because you love me.'

Ando muttered something incomprehensible. Hiro put his hand on Ando's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

'It's okay. I feel the same way, you know.'

Ando finally let his hands fall away from his face. 'I know,' he said with a small smile. 'But I'm still embarrassed. You are entirely inappropriate in front of company!' He sighed, then frowned thoughtfully. 'Why am I still surprised by that?'

Hiro laughed. For the moment, at least, Sylar and New York's impending destruction had ceased to trouble him. All that mattered right then was the growing smile on Ando's face and the knowledge that when night fell they would have each other to chase away the shadows.

November 2, 3:35 p.m.

Even though she hadn't been the one driving, Kimiko still felt badly about hitting what appeared at first glance to be a very twitchy homeless man. At first she hadn't understood his insistence on leaving when he was obviously hurt; she thought he might not be thinking clearly due to a concussion. Then she'd seen his reaction to her father and knew that the man had to be one of two things: a person with abilities, like herself, or someone who tracked people like herself.

The man had tried to bolt, but Kaito had taken him swiftly by the shoulder and guided him into the SUV before climbing in after him. He'd told Kimiko that they were taking the man to the hospital, but once she'd gotten into the vehicle Kaito had directed the driver to a specific address.

The strange man had sat doubled over with his elbows on his knees and his eyes directed at the floor. He had seemed angry and kept shooting piercing glances at Kaito, who barely paid him any notice. The cut on his forehead had still been bleeding. Kimiko had studied him out of the corner of her eye. The blood was making its way over the planes of the man's face; it would get into his eyes if it wasn't stopped.

Without saying a word, Kimiko had leaned forward over the front seats and dug into the glove compartment for the travel first aid kit she knew was there. When she had it, she had sat back in her seat and seen the stranger looking at her with a touch of fear in his eyes. When he'd seen the first aid kit, he'd let out a small sigh.

'My daughter is not going to shoot you, Mr. Raines,' Kaito had said, sounding amused. 'And I'm not going to kill you in front of her, so you can relax.'

Kimiko had found this a bit unnerving, but she knew better than to say anything so she'd busied herself with getting out gauze and medical tape.

'Taking me somewhere else to do it?' The man had said bitterly then hissed as Kimiko dabbed at his wound with a sterilized wipe. Kimiko had ignored his reaction and cleaned the wound, then called a gentle breeze to soothe it.

'I was under the impression that you were already dead. Killing you again would be unnecessary,' Kaito had said with a wry smile. 'Besides, that order didn't come from me. I'd left months before it happened, Claude. That is still what you're calling yourself, isn't it?'

'Far as you're going to know,' the man had muttered.

'You did a noble thing, I heard. A foolish thing, but noble nonetheless.'

'Only if it worked. It was only noble if it worked. Dammit!' Claude had flinched when Kimiko placed the gauze over his cut and began securing it with medical tape.

'Sorry,' Kimiko had said and Kaito had frowned at her.

'Don't fuss over him, Kimi,' her father had said.

'Ah, so Nurse Ratchet does have a name,' Claude had said, earning him a glare from his caretaker.

'Yes. Kimiko.'

'So she's in on your whole scheme?' Claude had laughed bitterly. 'Strange. Your lad didn't seem to have a clue about your doings.'

Kimiko had been taken aback by this, but Kaito had seemed unperturbed. 'Ah, so you've met Hiro. The boy certainly does seem to be getting around. But no, he doesn't know much about our work. He has never had the ambition that Kimiko has.'

Kimiko had smiled, happy to be recognized for once. Claude, however, had just laughed.

'Oh, I'd say he has plenty of ambition. He also has quite the hero complex, but so does every other idiot I've been meeting lately. They all think they're going to save the world.'

'Oh?' Kaito had smirked. 'But my son will actually be the one to do it.'

'Aren't you the proud papa. Found out his little talent then, eh? I expect that's what you're doing in this rat's nest; come to find the kiddo and put him to work 'furthering the greater good' or some such bollocks.'

'What I do with my son is none of your concern,' Kaito had said sharply.

'I agree. Excellent. Then why don't you have Ted Kennedy up there pull over and I'll be on my merry little way. Or is there something you simply must have me help you with?' Claude had said sarcastically.

Kaito had smiled. 'Oh, we don't need you, Mr. Raines, but there are some things I'd like to show you.'

The rest of the ride had gone on in silence and after several minutes the vehicle finally slowed and came to a stop. Kimiko was curious and more than a little uneasy about what was going to happen next. She had never known her father to be a needlessly violent man, but then there had been much she hadn't known about him until very recently. She was very surprised when she climbed out of the car and saw that they had stopped near what appeared to be an elementary school. The final bell had just rung and children of various ages were exiting noisily, screeching and laughing as they ran down the street or clambered onto their buses.

Kimiko looked at her father. 'Papa?'

'What's this then?' Claude asked as he spun around to face Kaito. 'Why here?'

'Several years ago a woman came to us in search of help,' said Kaito, falling into his story telling cadence. 'She was very young, just past eighteen, and had, she said, just escaped from some very bad people. One of our contact people took her in out in Oklahoma and eventually we were able to help her and get her set up with a job here in New York City. She's doing very well, I understand. Her memories had been wiped, however, and I don't think she ever remembered the little girl she'd entrusted you with before Linderman's group got a hold of her.'

'Carrie,' Claude said, looking haunted.

Kaito pointed across the street at a young red haired girl who was climbing all over the playground with several other children. 'She goes by Isabelle now. She has to wear contacts to hide the eyes, but otherwise nobody suspects that she's any different than the little ones she's playing with. We've given her the best care and education we can. She is learning how to control her ability very quickly.'

Kimiko looked at the little girl, smiling and happy with her friends, then looked at Claude who looked as if he'd been struck by a car all over again.

'You've protected her,' Claude said with disbelief.

'We do what we can,' Kaito said. 'You worked for Linderman for a very long time. You know much about the people he's studied, the things that they do. He and the others never trusted me, not completely. There are many things about that company that I don't know. With your help, however...'

Claude finally tore his eyes away from the children on the playground and looked at Kaito sharply. 'So what, then? Are you offering me a job?'

'I'm offering you a chance to right the wrong that was done to you and many, many others like you,' Kaito said. 'Will you help?'

Claude didn't answer. The school buses began to pull away, the chilled wind blew drawings and math tests down the street, and Kimiko held her breath and waited, feeling incredibly proud of her work for the first time.


	13. Chapter 13

November 2, 7:10 p.m.

As the darker part of evening fell over New York, a light snow began to fall. It was sparse and pitiful; hardly anybody in the city paid it any attention. The measly flakes melted long before they touched the ground; only those who lived high above the ground could see the snow if they happened to look out the window.

Molly Walker was high enough. From her room window she could watch the gray clouds spit out their burden. The snow flakes melted when they touched her window and left streaks. Bored, Molly blew on the chilled glass and began to doodle in the fog she had created. Stars, flowers, smiley faces...She knew the nice doctor was watching her, but she didn't mind. Dr. Suresh was different from the other people who had been pestering her. She thought that maybe she could trust him.

Mohinder Suresh watched the little girl draw in the window. There were maps all over the wall of the little room. Every one of them was covered in blue and red crayon. Molly had shown him some of the maps earlier in the evening. She certainly was an effective tracking system. She was also an innocent child who had no parents or close relatives to look after her. She seemed happy enough, but she had also confided that she hadn't been allowed outside since she had arrived and that the people taking care of her wouldn't let her watch television or use the phone. Mohinder's unease about Thompson had tripled since he had arrived at Kirby Plaza. Mohinder had been in the building several hours and had seen very few people. There were no receptionists, no visible security guards on the upper floors, no office drones, only a few white coated lab technicians. Mohinder had called Peter and told him that the information wouldn't be ready until the next morning, and though Mohinder told himself that he had no intention of spiriting away a child he had just met a small part of him was already planning their escape route.

In another part of the city, Claire Bennett was contemplating her own escape. Her plane ticket, first class to Paris, sat on the dresser that wasn't really hers in a bedroom that had none of her posters and pictures on the walls. If things went the way her grandmother wanted, she would be in France the following evening. Claire would leave her home, her friends, her family, her life as she knew it behind. Was it for the best? Claire didn't know. All she knew was that family was supposed to make you feel safe, not trapped.

Bennett watched as the lights of the city grew closer and wished that it was Sandra sitting beside him instead of Parkman. He wished that he could spare a moment to call her, tell her he was okay and make sure that she and Lyle were as well. That was impossible, of course. He hadn't let Parkman call his wife, after all. Bennett had understood Parkman's desire to connect with the beloved and the familiar, but the people they were running from had no sympathy for such things.

In the backseat, Ted Sprague turned the picture of his wife over in his hands, running his fingers over her beautiful, smiling face. He had looked at the picture so many times, trying to burn the image of her into his mind, but he was finding that he was already forgetting the little things about her. He knew she had a small scar above her eye, but he couldn't remember if it was on the left or the right. He couldn't remember how she'd like to wear her hair, before she'd gotten sick. He couldn't even remember exactly how her laugh sounded. Would her memory fade even more as time went past? She had wanted Ted to move on with his life, to be happy, but how could he move on when doing so meant that Karen would eventually become little more than a phantom haunting his dreams? He asked the picture this silently, but Karen's image only smiled and remained silent.

Nathan Petrelli stared at the painting Linderman had given him while his mother used his telephone. Nathan tried to ignore what she was saying to the man on the other line, tried to pretend that she wasn't selling out someone who was harmless and genuinely likable, tried to tell himself that it was for the best and that once everything calmed down he would find Hiro and apologize to him. He tried to tell himself these things but his internal voice, the one that sounded disturbingly like Peter, just laughed bitterly and called him a monster, a bad guy...a villain. Nathan frowned at his painted double. 'I'm not a bad guy,' he told it and looked away when it seemed to mock him.

Peter Petrelli opened his cell phone and paged down his contacts list until he came to the number marked 'Nathan.' His thumb hovered over the call button, but at the last second it flipped the phone closed instead. Peter tossed the phone onto his coffee table and looked out onto his balcony where Hiro and Ando stood together, watching the snow fall and twining their fingers together when they thought Peter wasn't looking.

Claude Raines sat on the toilet in the hotel bathroom and stared at his hands. He was in his own room, his own private room, paid for by a man that Claude had spent the last few years hating. The heater was on and it was almost uncomfortably warm in the small room. Room service was a phone call away. The bed was comfortable and piled with pillows and hot water was available from all the taps. Slightly uncomfortable with this unsought for luxury, Claude shed his clothing and stepped into the shower. The first spray of hot water hit his face and he gasped as it stung the cut on his forehead. Claude touched the bandage and uncontrollable laughter welled up from inside him. He hardly noticed when the laughter melted into tears of relief.

Sylar, formerly known as Gabriel Gray, hummed 'Don't Fear the Reaper' as he rode the elevator up to Mohinder's apartment. He had heard it in the cab he'd taken earlier, playing on some radio station. It had bothered him at the time, seeming almost too much like fate laughing at him, and he'd snapped the radio off before it had gone through the second verse. Now, though, it seemed oddly appropriate and after all, it was just a song.

It was easy to use telekinesis to unlock the apartment door. Sylar though he'd use his nonviolent approach to breaking in as leverage in getting the good doctor to explain the whole exploding madness. See how harmless I am; why would I do a I think like kill thousands of powerless people? Surely Mohinder couldn't still be too upset about before. And anyway, if he was then Sylar had no qualms with unorthodox methods of persuasion.

The lights were off in the apartment. No one was there. Sylar was mildly disappointed but not surprised. He wandered through the rooms without bothering to turn on the lamps, searching for information but not really expecting to find anything of use. When he reached the living room area he sat down on the couch to wait. Mohinder would show up sooner or later.

November 2, 10:45 p.m.

'New toothbrushes are the best.'

Hiro's voice drifted out from Peter Petrelli's bathroom. Ando was sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa. He was flipping through channels on the television, but when Hiro spoke he snapped the TV off and sighed.

'I'm glad you enjoy them because we spent most of our money this afternoon. Now we're really broke,' Ando muttered.

'Don't worry.' In the bathroom, Hiro rinsed and spat. 'After we save the world, we can go back to Las Vegas and get the Versa back.'

'I don't even want to think what our parking bill is going to be.'

'So don't think about it!' The faucet turned off and Hiro came out of the bathroom, turning the light off behind him. He was wearing one of their acquisitions from the city that afternoon, a black t-shirt that was way too big for him that said 'I Heart New York' in big orange letters.

Ando shook his head and laughed. 'That is the ugliest shirt I've ever seen.'

'I think you're exaggerating,' Hiro said as he plopped down next to Ando on the floor. 'You say that about most things I wear. Besides, its comfortable and doesn't pull when I lay in it.'

'Still ugly. And tacky.'

Hiro made a face. 'Peter sleeping?'

'I guess so.' Ando shrugged. 'Haven't seen him since he went in his room.'

'Everyone's been so nice to us,' Hiro said cheerfully. 'I don't know why people say New Yorkers are mean.'

'The invisible guy was kind of mean,' Ando pointed out. 'And I think Mohinder wouldn't be so nice if you didn't have something he wanted.'

Hiro hummed and turned around so he could lay on the floor with his hands behind his head. 'Peter Petrelli is nice, though.'

'For now,' Ando said quietly, thinking of the scarred man he had met in the future. Hiro either didn't hear the comment or had nothing to say to it. He just lay there and stared up at the ceiling, looking thoughtful. Ando watched him, drinking in the rise and fall of his chest, the curve of his jaw, the shadows his hair cast over his eyes. The bruise on Hiro's cheek had faded a little, but was still visible, as were the markings on his wrists. Now that he was wearing short sleeves, Ando could make out some smaller lacerations and bruising on Hiro's arms. More of homeland security's handiwork?

Presently Hiro yawned and stretched, reaching his arms out and up over his head. He slipped his glasses off momentarily and rubbed his eyes.

'Tired?' asked Ando.

Hiro shook his head and replaced his glasses, then stood up and stretched again. 'No. I just need to move around.'

'Of course you do,' Ando said with a smirk.

Hiro walked over to the balcony sliding doors and looked out. 'Its not snowing anymore.'

With some effort, Ando stood and padded over to where Hiro stood. He slid his arms around Hiro's waist and kissed the back of his neck, mimicking his actions from earlier in the day.

'Does it hurt?' Ando asked quietly.

'Does what hurt?' Hiro said without turning around.

Ando nuzzled against Hiro's jaw and planted a kiss on his cheek. 'This. And these.' He slid his hands up and down Hiro's arms before hugging him around the waist again.

'No,' Hiro said softly. 'Not really, anymore. Don't fuss.'

'Let me fuss,' Ando insisted. 'Let me take care of you.'

Hiro smiled slightly and opened his mouth to say something, but Ando stopped his words by kissing him soundly and thoroughly on the lips. Hiro made a small sound of surprise that quickly melted into a sound of pleasure as he kissed Ando back.

Without breaking the kiss Hiro spun around in Ando's arms so that they were facing one another and threw his arms around Ando's neck. Ando laughed against Hiro's lips and let his hands meander down to rest on Hiro's hips.

'Love how eager you always are,' Ando murmured when they parted briefly, panting slightly.

'You talk too much,' Hiro whispered and kissed Ando again before he could point out the irony of that statement. Hiro guided them backwards and they broke apart again when Ando bumped into the sofa.

Ando breathed in shakily. 'Shouldn't do this out here,' he said halfheartedly as Hiro began exploring his throat and neck with lips and tongue. Ando gasped as Hiro found a particularly sensitive spot, at the bend where his shoulder and neck met.

'Talk too much,' Hiro said again against Ando's skin. Ando's knees gave out and he ended up sitting on the sofa with Hiro sprawled on his lap. The jolt that shocked through him at the sudden friction staggered Ando and he had to close his eyes momentarily before he could remember what he was going to say.

'Petrelli...' he managed weakly. Hiro pulled back a bit and stared at him intently.

'So,' Hiro said, lips quirking into a smile. 'Where should we go?'

Ando looked around frantically and tried not to groan as Hiro shifted his weight. He saw the bathroom out of the corner of his eye and gestured vaguely at it. Hiro followed his gaze, then looked back at Ando and grinned wickedly.

'Bathroom?'

'Yeah. Bathroom.'

Hiro laughed and stood up, offering a hand to his friend and lover. Ando took it and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Hand in hand they stumbled into the bathroom and closed the door noiselessly behind them. Ando pressed his back against the door and laughed quietly.

'I feel like I'm sixteen and stealing kisses between classes,' he said.

Hiro chuckled. 'Hopefully Mr. Petrelli won't give us detention if he catches us.'

'If he asks,' Ando said as he brushed past Hiro to fiddle with the shower faucets, 'we were taking a shower.'

'Together?' Hiro asked with a skeptical smile. Ando nodded and jumped back a bit as hot water began to spray out from the shower head.

'That's how we roll,' he said as he turned to face Hiro. They stood there for a moment, suddenly feeling a bit bashful, until Hiro drew in a shaking breath and spoke.

'So,' he said.

'On three?' Ando suggested and Hiro nodded.

'One..'

'Two..'

'Three!' They finished together and there was a flurry of activity in the small bathroom as they raced to get their clothes off. Or at least, that's what Ando had thought the plan was. Hiro had apparently become distracted and was standing there still dressed and staring at Ando, who was naked as they day he'd been born. There was a strange look on Hiro's face that Ando recognized immediately; it was the same look Hiro had had when he'd first seen the sword of Kensei in the museum. It was slightly disconcerting and Ando could feel himself blushing.

'Quit it; you're making me self conscious!' Ando snapped, startling Hiro out of his trance like state.

'Sorry,' Hiro muttered and licked his lips. 'Its just...'

'What?' Ando prompted, feeling is nudity acutely but refusing to cover up like a shy little girl. 'We've changed in front of each other before.'

'I know!' Hiro said indignantly. 'But not when you're...like...that.' His cheeks colored as he waved his hand at Ando's midsection. Ando glanced down at himself and blushed even harder, if that was possible.

'I'm...getting in the shower,' he said hurriedly and quickly did so, pulling the curtain shut behind him. After a moment he peeked back out and looked at Hiro impatiently.

'Well? Take that awful shirt off and get in here!'

Hiro grinned and did as Ando bade him as Ando disappeared behind the curtain and tried to calm his breathing. The hot water beat down upon him; he stared up the shower head and let the water cascade over his face and shoulders, hoping that it would help clear his head a little bit. He was nervous, excited, and almost painfully aroused. The realization that he wanted Hiro, of all people, this badly frightened him a little.

Hiro stumbled a little as he climbed into the shower and Ando had to grab him by the elbow to keep him from slipping altogether. Hiro grinned sheepishly and blinked as water streamed into his eyes.

'Whoops.'

'Be careful,' Ando scolded and pulled Hiro close to kiss him. Hiro made a pleased noise low in his throat and wound his arms around Ando's shoulders, delighting in the feel of the water slickened skin. Ando ran his hands over Hiro's arms and back as he lapped water from Hiro's lips. They kissed languidly as the air steamed around them, covering everything in a fine, warm mist.

'Love you, Ando-kun,' Hiro murmured, tangling his fingers in Ando's hair and making him gasp by pressing their lower bodies together. Ando let his head fall back and luxuriated in the hot, slipper press of flesh on flesh. Hiro took immediate advantage of this and applied his mouth to Ando's throat, suckling and raising a red mark as Ando whimpered and stroked along Hiro's sides and hips.

'Ah, Hiro,' Ando panted. 'You're...need you so...'

'Shh,' Hiro smiled and left Ando's throat to place kisses along his collar, shoulders, chest...

Ando nearly choked as Hiro continued downward and, using most of his willpower, he gripped Hiro's shoulders and pulled him upright.

'Wait,' Ando managed and then kissed Hiro briefly when he frowned in confusion. 'Wait.'

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing!' Ando laughed and shook his head. 'Nothing. Just...I want to take care of you first, remember?'

Hiro blinked, and Ando laughed again. 'Just let me...' He whispered and nudged Hiro so that his back was against the wall. 'Here...'

They kissed again, more slowly this time, and Ando reached between them to run his fingers up the soft skin of Hiro's inner thigh. Hiro's breath hitched and he began to tremble slightly as Ando traced the same path on the opposite side. Ando's fingers repeated this teasing dance several times, with Hiro's breathing coming in more rapid gasps until finally Ando found his length and cupped him gently, then began to stroke. Hiro let out a strangled cry and banged his head against the wall with a dull thud. The sight sent a jolt of desire coursing through Ando's veins and he sped his hand, watching with fascination as small noises of pleasure escaped from Hiro's mouth.

'Like that?' Ando whispered huskily. Hiro nodded weakly and rocked his hips forward in response.

Ando smirked and moved his hand to brace against the wall by Hiro's head, then spread Hiro's legs with his knee and thrust against him experimentally. Both of them gasped at the contact and Ando groaned and thrust up against Hiro again. Hiro found his rhythm and began to match him, thrust for thrust, and it wasn't long before Hiro was coming in hot, sticky waves between them.

Breathing heavily, Ando restrained himself and covered his lover with kisses as Hiro's tremors subsided. Hiro rested his head on the wall behind him and stood panting with his eyes closed and a content smile on his face. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he smiled at Ando wickedly.

'Now I take care of you,' he said and spun Ando around so that their positions were reversed. He began kissing and licking his way down Ando's chest and belly, humming to himself as he did so. Ando had time to whimper quietly in anticipation and then Hiro's mouth was on him and all he could see were stars. He was vaguely aware of his hands tangling in Hiro's hair, of Hiro's hands clutching the back of his thighs, and of the pounding water that was quickly becoming cold but most of his world had narrowed down to the hot suction of Hiro's inexperienced but very clever mouth.

Ando could feel his climax building and he tried uselessly to simultaneously give Hiro a warning and keep himself from snapping his hips forward. Hiro sputtered a bit, and that brought Ando back momentarily, but then Hiro's mouth descended again and Ando had to bite his own arm hard to keep from shouting as he came hard.

When the world finally stopped spinning and Ando was pretty sure that he wasn't going to collapse, he opened his eyes to see Hiro standing and wiping his mouth.

'Have to brush my teeth again,' Hiro mumbled, then saw Ando looking at him and grinned.

'You!' Ando said nonsensically. 'Wow.'

'Yes. Wow,' Hiro said with a laugh, then shivered. 'This water is freezing.'

Ando hurriedly shut the water off, then pulled Hiro to him again and kissed him lightly on the lips. 'No mess this time.'

'That was fun,' Hiro said emphatically and reached for a bath towel. He handed another one to Ando, who was laughing.

'It definitely was that,' he agreed and began toweling his hair dry. Hiro wrapped his own towel around his waist and watched Ando fondly.

'You're worth everything,' Hiro said quietly.

'You're such a girl, Hiro,' Ando said affectionately.

'But you love me,' Hiro teased.

'Yes.' Ando tucked his towel around his waist and put his arms around his lover. 'I do.' He paused, then mumbled, 'a lot.'

Hiro chuckled, then yawned. 'Mm, love you too,' he mumbled into Ando's hair. 'Tired, though.'

Ando gave him a squeeze. 'I call the right side tonight. And try not to kick me in your sleep.'

'I never do,' Hiro retorted indignantly.

'You do. And you steal the blankets. When we get home, we're each having our own covers.'

Hiro beamed. 'When we get home?'

Ando nodded firmly. 'When we get home,' he repeated and wished with all his being that he would live to go home with Hiro and fight over who got what side of the bed.


	14. Chapter 14

November 3, 6:15 a.m.

Nathan Petrelli lay on his side next to his sleeping wife and stared at his

alarm clock. He had been staring at the clock for the last forty five

minutes, unable to fall back asleep and unwilling to get up and begin his

day. As he watched, the glowing red digits blinked ever so slowly from 6:15

to 6:16. Tick tock and another minute had passed. Weak sunlight was

attempting to penetrate through the curtains. They day was beginning and

Nathan really wished it wouldn't.

Taking great care not to wake Heidi, Nathan slipped from his bed and

shivered slightly as his feet touched the cold floor. He grabbed his cell

phone from the bedside table where it was charging and took it with him into

his bathroom. He hesitated only briefly before punching in the number that

would auto-dial Peter's cell.

At his apartment, Peter Petrelli was sleeping soundly for once, without any

nightmares or precognitive dreams. When his cell phone rang he tried very

hard to ignore it and buried his head under his pillow. After the phone rang

several times Peter sighed wearily and blindly searched for the cursed

thing. He answered mid-ring.

'Hello?' he said, his voice rough with sleep. 'Mohinder?'

'No, Pete, its me,' Nathan said, annoyed at the way Peter had answered the

phone. He began rummaging through the medicine cabinet, searching for the

items he needed in order to shave. 'Sorry I woke you. I just...I'm sorry.

About yesterday.'

'Yesterday?' Peter sat up, trying to clear his sleep addled mind, then

remembered the argument he'd had with his brother the day before. 'Oh yeah.

I still think you're wrong about sending Claire away, but Nathan, listen. I

took your advice. I went to see Suresh yesterday and I think I was wrong

about things. Its not me who's the bomb. Its Sylar.'

'Sylar,' Nathan repeated then cursed as he dropped his razor in the sink.

'The guy who almost killed you back in Texas?'

'And then again a few days ago? Yeah, that's the guy.' Peter turned on his

light and began to speak more quickly, eager to tell Nathan all that he'd

learned in the last twenty four hours. 'Remember the guy I met on the

subway, the one I told you about? Well he was there, at Suresh's.'

'Guy from the future?' Nathan said, trying to sound nonchalant but swearing

like a sailor in his mind.

'Yeah. Well, sort of,' Peter amended. 'Its kind of complicated.'

'Give me the short version, Peter; I've got a long day ahead of me,' Nathan

grumbled and began to shave as Peter laid out an abridged version of what

Hiro and Ando had told him the previous day.

Nathan listened intently, cut himself twice, and decided to wait until

he got off the phone to finish shaving as Peter spoke. Nathan was

silent through the whole telling, and he gradually felt more and more

uneasy. He had accepted what his mother had told him regarding Hiro,

Peter, Sylar, and the bomb but some part of him had remained

skeptical. The idea that his mother had prophetic dreams had, on some

level, seemed absurd. Now that Peter was essentially repeating what

his mother had told him, however...

'...so they've been here with me while we wait to hear from Mohinder,'

Peter finished.

'They're with you now, then? At your apartment?'

'Yeah, sleeping I think. Look, Nathan, if we can find Sylar and stop

him then the dreams I've been having, the future that Hiro went

to...none of it will come true,' Peter said excitedly.

'None of it will come to pass,' Nathan said quietly and thought of the

painting of the oval office. 'The explosion, you're sure its Sylar?

Its not you?'

'According to Isaac's comic, yeah, its Sylar,' Peter said. 'Its vague

on a lot of stuff, but not that.'

'Great,' Nathan said, trying to sound optimistic and failing

miserably. 'Tell you what, Peter, this is important, what you're

telling me. I need to meet with you; we need to discuss it. Can you

meet me at the Gotham City Cafe in thirty minutes?'

'Thirty minutes?' Peter glanced at his clock and frowned at the early

hour, but agreed anyway. 'Yeah, sure, I'll be there. I'll bring Hiro

and Ando, too; they can explain things better than I can.'

'No, no,' Nathan said quickly. 'From what you've said they've been

through a lot; they're probably exhausted. Let them sleep; they'll be

fine at your place.'

'Yeah. Yeah, you're right.' Peter shifted the phone to his other ear

and walked over to his closet to get dressed. 'I'll see you at the

Gotham City Cafe in half an hour, then.'

'Right. See you then, Peter,' Nathan said then hung up.

He picked up his razor and finished shaving, then rinsed his face and

brushed his teeth. Once he had finished, he picked up his phone once

again and stared at it. For one wavering moment he thought about

calling Kimiko and telling her what he'd just learned; they had

exchanged numbers without the knowledge of their parents and Kimiko

had begged Nathan to call her if he had a change of heart. She could

help him, she'd said.

Nathan dismissed the notion. He had a responsibility to take care of

his family, his home, and his country. By getting elected to Congress,

by becoming President he could do all of that. He liked Kimiko, but

she was from a foreign country on the other side of the world and

couldn't possibly understand Nathan's responsibilities.

Frowning to himself Nathan punched in a phone number and listened to it ring.

'Mr. Linderman,' he said when the other end was picked up, 'we have a

problem.'

November 3, 6:58 a.m.

Ando woke to somebody annoyingly shaking him by the shoulder.

Grumbling to himself he opened his eyes and forced them to focus on

Peter Petrelli, who was just zipping up his jacket. Ando blinked at

him, then looked at Hiro who was still sleeping and doing his very

best to invade Ando's side of the bed. Ando touched Hiro's shoulder,

ready to wake him, but Peter spoke up.

'Don't wake him. I just wanted to let you know I'm going out.'

'Mohinder call?' Ando asked with a yawn and raised himself up on his

elbows so he could see the empath better.

'Nah, my brother. He's like us...well,' Peter said after a brief

pause, 'like Hiro and me.'

Ando nodded. 'He has power.'

'Yeah, though he'd deny it if you asked him. Nathan isn't real big on

the hero thing,' Peter said with a wry smile.

'Anyway, he wants to meet with me. We need to talk about some things.

You guys stay here; if Mohinder calls, call my cell and let me know,'

Peter said as he went for the door. 'I'll lock it behind me,' he added

and slipped out, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Ando watched the closed door and laid back when he heard the lock

click into place.

'Nathan Petrelli...' he murmured to himself. The name sounded familiar

but for the life of him Ando couldn't place it. He was tired and Hiro

had twined himself even more tightly around Ando's body. Yawning

again, Ando tucked his arm around Hiro's shoulders and closed his

eyes. He was back asleep within moments.

November 3, 7:10 a.m.

Claude Raines inhaled deeply and tried very hard not to drool as a

young waiter set his breakfast down on the table. Across from him,

Kimiko noticed his expression and giggled silently to herself. Kaito

simply watched, his face an unreadable mask as usual.

The hotel dining room was fairly crowded, especially for a weekday

morning. Although Kaito hadn't said a word about it, Claude was fairly

certain that a good number of the patrons were employees of Yamagato,

watching out for their CEO and Vice President. Still, if Kaito wanted

to give off the impression that he was being unthreatening and

generous Claude was inclined to let him, especially since it got him a

free well cooked meal.

'Have you given thought to my proposal?' Kaito said mildly just as

Claude dug into his breakfast.

Claude took his sweet time replying, chewing his foot slowly and

savoring each and every flavor. Finally he swallowed and looked Kaito

in the eyes.

'I did,' Claude said simply and took a long swing of orange juice.

When he didn't elaborate further, Kaito frowned at him.

'And?' he prompted.

'And I still don't trust you,' Claude continued. 'But for whatever

reason you've kept Carrie safe and whole. The company I worked for

would have had her torn apart and slowly put back together again, not

at a good private school happy as a clam. So obviously you've split

from Primatech and that lot. The question is why.'

'I have my own reasons,' Kaito said as Claude took another bite.

'Oh, I'm sure you do,' Claude answered as he chewed. 'I'm also sure

that you aren't going to tell me what they are; nobody gives straight

answers in this godforsaken age...'

'I'm glad you understand,' Kaito said with a small smile.

Claude took another sip of his orange juice. 'I want you to know that

I vowed to never hunt one of my own again and I intend to keep that

vow. I'm not saying I'll work for you, but I will help you out with a

few things. I'll leave it to you to prove how trustworthy you are.'

Kaito bowed his head slightly in Claude's direction, accepting the

invisible man's challenge.

'Please, Mr. Raines, tell us what you know,' Kimiko said in her soft voice.

Claude raised an eyebrow at her. 'Darlin', none of this "Mr." crap; it

makes me feel like a bloody creepy uncle. Its Claude or nothing. And I

know quite a bit that I'm not ready to divulge at the moment.' He

smiled. 'But I can and will tell you where your kid brother is hiding

out at the moment.'

'Can you tell us how to get there?' Kimiko asked.

'Oh, I'll do better than that,' Claude said. 'I'll take you there myself.'


	15. Chapter 15

November 3, 7:23 a.m.

While Nathan Petrelli was arranging to meet his brother for breakfast, his daughter was calmly, but quickly, packing a few outfits and essential items into a backpack. Claire had awakened early and with only mild hesitation she had made her decision: she was going to leave. She probably wouldn't get very far; her new found grandmother seemed to somehow know everything all of the time. Claire even regretted running out on the man who had helped in her creation (she refused to call him 'dad'. It was too weird), but the fact was she simply couldn't stand another day in the company of those people.

Claire dashed off a brief note to Nathan, stuck it on her freshly made bed, slung her backpack onto her back, and walked over to the window. It wasn't very high; thirty feet at the most. A piece of cake. She only hoped that the thud she knew she'd make wouldn't wake anybody in the house. She opened the window and grimaced at the cold air, then took one final look at the closed bedroom door and let herself tumble out and down.

The injuries weren't too bad; broken leg, maybe a small concussion, and a rather nasty gash on the arm where Claire had accidentally banged into the iron fence surrounding the estate. Claire lay on the ground while her wounds quickly healed and held her breath, waiting for a shout or some other sign that somebody had heard her. Nothing.

Quietly, Claire got to her feet and looked around. The street was fairly empty of pedestrians and the people in the cars would pay no attention to a young girl walking down the street with a backpack. She'd managed to sequester some money away from the funds her grandmother had supplied her with, so it would be no problem to catch a cab and take it to Peter's apartment building. Claire supposed it wasn't wise to try to see Peter, especially considering that that was where her grandmother had found her the first time, but she didn't know anyone else in the city. Besides, Peter had saved her life and she had saved his. She trusted him.

Claire rolled her shoulders and felt the last of the post fall stiffness melt away. She looked up and down the street and then scurried away from the Petrelli mansion.

November 3, 7:46 a.m.

'Dr. Suresh?'

Mohinder shook his head vigorously and blinked. Molly was watching him with an amused look on her face.

'Yes, Molly, did you need something?' Mohinder mumbled and blinked again. His eyes kept threatening to close on him. Sleeping in a chair in an unfriendly environment was not conductive to a good night's rest.

'No,' Molly said, then giggled. 'Its just you've been taking my pulse for five minutes. Does it usually take that long?'

Mohinder started and released the little girl's wrist. 'Not usually. I'm sorry, I completely...'

'Spaced out?' Molly supplied.

'Right, that,' Mohinder said with a laugh. Molly rolled her eyes and skipped over to her desk where her crayons were waiting. She looked up thoughtfully, then picked up a blue crayon and began to draw.

'How are you feeling today, Molly?' Mohinder asked as he stood up.

'Okay.' Molly glanced at him. 'I know they say I'm sick, but I don't feel it most of the time. Sometimes I feel dizzy, but that's only if I have to look for somebody really hard.'

'And do you have to do that, often?'

Molly shook her head and concentrated on her drawing. 'No. Usually I just talk about the ones that I don't have to look for. Some people are brighter than others.'

'Brighter?' Mohinder repeated with a smile.

'Yep. I can feel them shining and I know if they're getting closer or if they're getting further away. And once I've met someone in person...' Molly raised her head and beamed beatifically at Mohinder. 'I can find them always.'

Mohinder grinned back and her, then walked over and knelt beside her desk. 'What's this you're drawing?'

'The world,' Molly said with a simplicity that only a child could muster and began to show the good doctor her handy work.

November 3rd, 7:50 a.m.

Thompson watched Suresh and the girl through the one way mirror in Molly's room. It was interesting the way the geneticist had bonded so quickly with the young child. Interesting and very convenient. Molly would be a very good motivator for Mohinder; the Company needed his research and as long as Molly remained with them Thompson suspected Suresh would as well.

'Very convenient,' Thompson remarked to the silent man next to him. 'Molly's a sweet girl, but I never would have expected her to charm the jaded Dr. Suresh.'

The Haitian, unsurprisingly, said nothing.

'Thank you for coming so promptly,' Thompson continued as he turned to face the other man. 'Your skills are very useful to us; I doubt there will be any reparations necessary for your little stunt with Bennett.'

The Haitian remained silent, but his eyes narrowed and his expression said very clearly It isn't you I'm working for.

Thompson smirked at the expression and shook his head slightly. In his jacket pocket his cell phone let out a low, droning ring.

'Wait for me downstairs,' Thompson said dismissively as he flipped the phone opened. 'Don't want you interfering with little Molly's talent, now do we? Five after eight; that's when we leave.'

The Haitian made no affirmative or negative response; he simply turned and left the room. Some tension that Thompson hadn't even been aware he was carrying lifted. That silent man was unsettling.

'Thompson here,' he said into the phone, forgetting about the Haitian for the moment.

'This is B-level,' said a gruff male voice on the other end. 'The kid in eight busted his restraints again. He's drugged up pretty good, so he can't get out but the doctor can't get near him to do her rounds without catching on fire.'

'Is he doing it on purpose this time or is it reactionary?' Thompson asked.

'Dunno, but either way the little punk thinks its funny as hell. Been laughing since the restraints broke.' The man sighed. 'I don't think this one is going to cooperate with us. Third time in three days he's slipped loose and none of the nurses are willing to work with him.'

'Give it time,' Thompson said patiently. 'Teenagers always need a little extra prompting. In the meantime, give control a call. I think one of their guys is immune to mitochondria manipulation.Have them tranq the kid. Double dose this time, I think.'

'Right. Yes sir.'

'Oh, and Mr. Heinreid?'

'Sir?'

'How many open beds do you have down there?'

There was a pause as the man on the other end thought it over. 'Three, maybe. Five if you count the two on either side of our happy little friend, but the ones we tried putting in there ended up getting burned during a temper tantrum.'

'We probably won't be needing that many,' Thompson said. 'Just be ready for a new arrival, Lloyd. And try not to get burned.'

November 3, 7:59 a.m.

Kimiko looked distastefully at the run down apartment building. Her father stood beside her, looking mildly irritated, and Kimiko knew that he was wondering if Claude hadn't led them on a wild goose chase.

'The geneticist lives here?' Kimiko asked, unknowingly echoing Ando's sentiments from two days earlier.

'Sure does. I don't know, maybe he finds it quaint or something.' Claude turned to face Kimiko and her father. 'I expect you'll want me to go up with you?'

Kaito nodded and Claude sighed.

'Fine. But if he starts asking questions about me I'm leaving. I don't like those research types; too damned nosy.' Claude shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his feet. 'Shall we go, then? No security here; we can just go right on up.'

Kaito nods and the two men started for the entrance. Kimiko looked up at the building one more time and frowned at it.

'Ugly...' she mumbled to herself in Japanese and then followed her father and Claude into the building.

Upstairs, in Mohinder Suresh's apartment, Sylar was busy fixing all the clocks so that they said the precise time. He heard the elevator begin its descent and paused in his work, and listened intently, just as he had every time the elevator had moved that morning. He waited patiently to see if the elevator would stop on his floor, and when it did he felt a rush of excitement. Somebody was getting off the elevator; several people, in fact, by the sound of their footsteps. Unlikely to be Mohinder, then, but they seemed to be coming towards the apartment anyway.

Sylar began to silently count down the seconds until the strangers would reach the door, if that was in fact where they were headed.

Five...

four...

three...

two...

one...

There was a sharp knock on the door.

November 3, 8:06 a.m.

In his sleep, Hiro flung his arm out and accidentally smacked Ando right in the face. With a startled grunt, Ando woke up momentarily and rolled his eyes at the sight of his friend sprawled all over him. This was getting to be a habit, but one that Ando didn't really mind, if he was honest with himself. Ando laced his fingers with Hiro's and rested both their hands on his own chest. That would take care of any more 'arm flailing.' Ando let out a content sigh and quickly drifted back to sleep for the second time.

Neither he nor Hiro had any inclination of the trouble that was brewing right outside their own door.


	16. Chapter 16

November 3, 8:36 a.m.

Claire hated New York traffic; it took forever to get anywhere in a car. Judging by the way he was shouting at everybody, her taxi driver apparently agreed with her sentiments. Claire noted with more than a little relief that the light they were currently stuck at was only about a block away from Peter's apartment building. Muttering a thank you, Claire paid the driver and hopped out just as the stupid light turned green. As the cars immediately started forward, Claire darted across the street, ignoring the angry shouts of several motorists. Once on the sidewalk she blended in with the crowd and, keeping her chin up, walked briskly in the direction of Peter's apartment.

It was freezing cold outside and Claire hadn't thought to bring gloves or a scarf or anything like that. The wind was particularly nasty; several times Claire's eyes teared up and momentarily obscured her vision. She was soundly cursing northern weather when Peter's apartment building finally came into view...

And Claire stopped dead. Someone banged into her and muttered something as they walked on but Claire barely noticed. As the crowd swarmed around her, she fixed her gaze on the entrance to Peter's building where the Haitian was idling, reading a newspaper and looking slightly bored.

Claire's first thought was that someone had realized she'd ran away, but how, then, did they manage to get somebody to Peter's before she got there herself? The silent man didn't seem to be paying much attention to anybody at the moment. Claire ducked her head and began walking purposefully, praying that she wouldn't be noticed.

As she passed the apartment entrance a group of laughing twenty somethings separated from the crowd and headed into the building. Without a moment's thought Claire followed them closely and tried to pretend that she was a part of their little posse. The revolving door was close, so close; a few more feet and Claire would be inside.

The group Claire had been following made their way through the spinning doors and Claire had just breathed a sigh of relief and put her hands on the door when somebody said her name.

'Claire.' Thompson's voice, the man Claire's father had taken a bullet to protect Claire from. He didn't sound surprised, amused, or much of anything really and that sent a chill down Claire's spine.

She rushed through the door without looking back and practically ran to the elevator. Luck was on her side for once and the doors were just opening to let the college students on. Claire slipped in with them and punched Peter's floor button. Just as the doors slid closed, Claire caught a glimpse of Thompson and the Haitian striding into the building.

Claire's heart was pounding and she kept muttering curse word under her breath until she realized that the other passengers were silent and looking at her strangely.

'Sorry,' she said, forcing a smile. 'Late to visit my uncle.'

Two of the young adults gave her a small smile; the others just continued to look at her oddly. Claire shut her mouth and concentrated on willing the elevator to go faster. She had no doubts that Thompson knew where she was headed, but if she could just get to Peter's place and barricade the door...

The bell chimed and the doors slid open on Peter's floor. Claire wanted to run as fast as she could out of the elevator and down the hallway, but she told herself to be calm and collected, at least until she got out of the elevator. As soon as the doors shut behind her, however, she half ran, half walked down the hallway and rapped sharply on Peter's door.

'Come on, come on!' Claire muttered under her breath when her knock was immediately answered. She kept it up, knocking more and more frantically as more seconds ticked by.

'Peter! Its Claire, please open!' Claire shouted as loud as she dared. There was something of a commotion on the other side of the door, a crash and then muttered voices. Claire knocked harder on the door.

'Please, please, please, open the door!'

The door was yanked open and a tired and confused looking Asian man stared back at her. Another man peered over his shoulder curiously, and when he saw Claire he frowned and adjusted his glasses.

Claire looked at the two men with shock and consternation. 'Who are you?' She spat.

November 3, 8:41 a.m.

Ando looked at the pretty blond girl incredulously. 'Who are you?' he parroted back.

The girl looked absolutely insulted and opened her mouth to answer, but the elevator down the hall chimed and a look of terror took over her features.

'Inside, now!' she said and pushed passed Ando and a very confused Hiro aside as she hurried into the room and shut the door behind her.

'Wait a second, who are you?' Ando asked again.

The girl locked first the deadbolt and then the chain bolt on the door, then spun around and seemed to look for something.

'Where's Peter?' she asked, then turned to Ando and said pleadingly 'I'm his niece; I need to see him. Where is he?'

'Visiting his brother.' Ando stammered. 'He left an hour ago. He didn't tell us you were coming.'

'I know you!' Hiro exclaimed suddenly. 'You are in Mr. Issac's paintings! Cheerleader!'

'Claire,' said the girl. 'My name is Claire and yes, I'm a cheerleader, and no, I can't save the world.'

A small, polite knock came from the door. All three stopped talking and turned to look at it.

'This is the NYPD; we had a call about a disturbance. Can you open up, please?' Said a calm, low voice.

Hiro stepped forward, hand extended, to open the door but Claire leaped in front of him.

'Don't. Open. That. Door,' she said through gritted teeth.

Hiro blinked. 'But...police?'

'They're lying; they have nothing to do with the police. Look, through the peephole, but don't let them in!'

Hiro glanced at Ando, who shrugged, and then hesitantly looked through the peephole as the people on the other side knocked again. Hiro leaped back, looking pale, and gave Ando a concerned look.

'Haitian,' he said in a loud whisper.

'We have authorization to use force to gain entry if necessary,' the maddeningly calm voice warned.

'Go away!' Ando said in a raised voice. 'We didn't do anything! You have the wrong place!' Then, in a lower voice, he said to Hiro and Claire, 'What are they doing here? What do they want?'

'Who cares what they want!' Claire exclaimed. 'We have to get out of here, now!'

'Hiro,' Ando said, turning to his friend and falling into Japanese in his panic. 'Can you teleport?'

In response, Hiro grabbed hold of both Ando and Claire and closed his eyes, concentrating hard. A moment later he reopened them and said fearfully, 'No, Haitian blocks me, remember?'

Ando swore. 'We can't let them find you.'

'This is your final warning,' said the voice. 'Open the door or we'll force it open.'

'Shut up!' Ando shouted in frustration.

'What's going on?' Claire demanded. 'What did you just try to do?'

'Hiro can teleport,' Ando said to Claire as he looked around for something to block the door with. 'He moves time and space, but he can't do it with the Haitian around. We have to get off this floor.'

Something heavy banged into the door, making everyone in Peter's apartment jump. Ando glanced at Hiro and saw his own terror mirrored in Hiro's eyes. Hiro swallowed heavily and tried to give Ando a reassuring look, but Ando saw through it. They were trapped and helpless and they knew it.

There was another bang on the door. Hiro appeared to shake himself, and a determined look spread over his face. He walked over to the balcony glass doors, picking his sword up from the couch as he went. He threw open the doors, walked over to the railing, and peered over the side.

'We'll have to jump,' he said.

Ando blanched. 'What?!'

'If we jump and get down lower, then I can teleport us away before we hit the ground,' Hiro said, then paused. 'In theory.'

'You've gone insane,' Ando said in disbelief. Claire, however, went over to join Hiro.

'Could that really work?' she asked. 'I could just jump, and be okay, but...'

'No, no, no way,' Ando protested. 'Hiro, we don't even know if you can teleport two people at once.'

'If he can't, then he can drop me and you guys can go,' Claire said. 'All I know is that I'm not staying here waiting for that man to break down the door!'

'Wait,' Hiro interrupted. 'They stopped banging.'

The pounding had indeed stopped and in the sudden silence there was an even more frightening sound: the sound of keys being fitted into the lock.

'Trouble!' Hiro exclaimed and unsheathed his sword.

'Where did you get that?' Claire asked, astounded.

Hiro ignored her. 'Ando-kun, behind me now! I'll protect us until we can get away.'

'I'm not hiding behind you,' Ando said stubbornly. 'They took you once and I ran; I won't let it happen again.'

'Ando!' Hiro shouted, ready to argue, but just then the lock clicked loudly and something heavy slammed into the door, breaking the chain lock. Hiro darted forward, grabbed Ando by the sleeve and dragged him back towards the balcony.

'Stubborn,' Hiro muttered to him as he got into a stance.

Thompson strode into the apartment, grinning like a madman. From his hand dangled a overcrowded key ring. The Haitian followed him like a silent ghost. Claire glared daggers at him.

'You didn't really think we'd break the door completely, did you?' Thompson drawled. 'Takes too long, and we really don't want to raise the premium on Mr. Petrelli's renter's insurance.'

The Haitian shut the door behind him. The chain clanked uselessly against the wood. To Ando, it sounded like the ticking of a broken clock.

'There's no need for that thing, Mr Nakamura,' Thompson continued as he gestured at the sword. 'We just want to have a little talk.'

'The hell you do,' Claire said from behind Hiro. 'I know exactly how your little talks turn out.'

'Of course you do, Ms. Bennett,' Thompson said dismissively.

'What do you want?' Hiro asked without giving an inch of his ground.

'We want to learn about you,' Thompson said with an unpleasant smile. 'We want to learn how you do the things you do, find out just what it is that makes you so special.' The smile slipped from his face. 'And we want to keep you from getting into things that are far, far too big for you.'

'You're not touching Hiro!' Ando said loudly. 'Or Claire,' he added.

'Yours is an admirable position, but I don't think you realize exactly what's going on here,' Thompson said. The nasty smile was beginning to creep back onto his face, and it grew even larger as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a strange looking, but very real, gun.

'Leave them alone!' Hiro cried quickly, 'and I'll go with you.'

'You won't,' Ando said.

'No need to argue, kids,' Thompson drawled lazily. 'What's going to happen is this: Ms. Bennett, your going to return home to dear old granny and daddy and thank your lucky stars that I don't get to take you back with me. Mr. Nakamura is going to get a shot of this unless he cooperates entirely, and for the third wheel...well, my friend here is very good at making people forget all the bad, nasty things.'

'You're a bad man,' Hiro said darkly and Thompson laughed.

'I'd say that's a matter of perspective. Now, lets not make this difficult.' Thompson raised the gun so it was level with Hiro. 'Put up the weapon. Now.'

Hiro shifted slightly and Ando grabbed his wrist.

'Hiro, don't,' he said in Japanese. 'There are three of us and two of them. We can get past them.'

'Don't worry,' Hiro replied. 'We'll be fine.' Then, ignoring Ando's cry of protest, he slipped the sword back into its sheath and swung it onto his back.

'Atta boy,' Thompson smirked. The Haitian narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Hiro took a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly, and sprang into action. He didn't bother to turn around; if he saw the ground far below he might lose his nerve and then they'd all be in trouble. Instead he reached out and grabbed Ando firmly by the hand, grasped Claire by the arm, and threw all his wieght backwards. It probably wouldn't have worked, except that Claire saw what he was doing and helped propel all of them over the railing.

Hiro squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated harder than he had ever concentrated before. Cold wind wipped past his cheeks and Ando's grip was crushing his hand, but Hiro put all that from his mind and focused singularly on getting away and not dying.

It only took a second or two for Hiro to teleport them to safety, though when asked later Ando would swear it took a hundred million years. By the time Thompson and the Haitian had rushed over to the balcony and stared down at the ground in shock Hiro, Ando, and Claire were crashing to the floor in Isaac Mendez's loft.


	17. Chapter 17

November 3, 8:02 a.m.

As soon as the door opened Claude knew something was wrong. The man standing in the doorway was not Mohinder Suresh; it was the man that Claude had seen the day before outside of Mendez's apartment, wearing a black trench coat and talking agitatedly on his cell phone. Presently, the man was smiling what Claude guessed what was supposed to be an innocuous smile and leaning against the door frame. Behind him, on the wall, the hands on a windup clock were spinning wildly.

'Where is Mohinder Suresh?' Claude asked accusingly. The man smiled wider and Claude was unnerved to see that it didn't reach his eyes.

'He isn't here at the moment,' the man said. 'I'm a...friend of his. I let myself in.'

'Oh really? Mind if I see your key?' Claude pressed.

The man tapped his temple. 'Don't need a key.' He smirked. 'I'm something of a locksmith.'

Claude studied the man carefully and nearly choked when he finally placed the man's features and demeanor. He'd seen them before, in black and white of course. Sylar, the serial killer who had so many people terrified, was standing in front of them, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Claude swallowed and tried to keep his fear off his face. 'Right then. We'll be going.'

He spun around and gave Kaito and Kimiko an intense, meaningful look. Kimiko looked confused, but she was a smart girl and kept her mouth shut. There was an odd tension to Kaito's shoulders, and Claude recalled with some relief that the man was regarded as very, very dangerous.

'Why the hurry?' Sylar said to Claude's turned back. 'I'm sure Mohinder won't mind if we wait and chat.'

Kimiko was trying to look over Claude's shoulder and past Sylar into the apartment. Her mouth tightened into a thin line of frustration and she glanced at her father.

'Hiro isn't here,' she said in her native tongue.

'If he is, he's dead,' Claude replied. 'Walk away. Calmly. Now.'

'That's quite rude, you know,' Sylar said, sounding amused.

'Sorry. We'll try back later,' Claude muttered and managed to take a few steps away before every muscle in his body tensed and refused to move even a fraction of an inch.

'No, stay,' Sylar said. 'I insist.'

Claude had enough time to think that he was well and truly screwed, and then he was being yanked into the apartment by what felt like the base of his spine. His head whacked the door frame as he went and the cut on his forehead reopened. The door slammed shut loudly behind him and the lock caught noisily. Claude scrambled to his feet and faced the other man, ignoring the blood that was dripping down into his eyes. Sylar advanced on him, and the wind up clock ticked more frantically and finally broke with a mechanical clank.

'Forgive my bad manners,' Sylar said with a smirk. Claude flipped him the bird and vanished. Invisible, he edged as far away from Sylar as possible and held his breath.

Sylar laughed gleefully. 'I see you've met my good friend Peter!'

He put his hands straight out in front of him and cocked his head to the side. 'Let's see if you make the same mistake he did.'

The furniture began to shake and Claude eyed it apprehensively, certain that the sofa was going to come hurtling at his head. Doubtless that was exactly what Sylar had in mind, but the apartment door suddenly blew off its hinges with tremendous force and went flying into the room. It slammed into Sylar with a meaty thud, knocking him to the ground. Claude had to leap to the side to avoid the same fate. The door continued on until it plowed through the back wall and stuck there.

Claude recovered in time to see Kimiko standing in the doorway looking furious. Her hands were shaking. Kaito moved past her, a shapeless blur with a flash of sharp silver in his hand. He fell upon Sylar's prone form and Sylar let out an enraged yell. Claude moved a little bit until he could see that Kaito had taken a dagger from somewhere and put it completely through Sylar's shoulder. Claude was momentarily impressed.

'Where is my son?' Kaito shouted. He twisted the blade and Sylar gritted his teeth. His eyes flashed angrily. Claude noticed Sylar's good arm twitch and he acted quickly, rushing over to the pair and stepping down hard on Sylar's wrist.

Furious, Sylar twisted and shrieked. The furniture shook violently and then every single glass item in the apartment shattered and went flying. Kimiko screamed and dove for cover. Claude staggered and almost lost his footing. Something like a shock wave burst out from Sylar's body, and Kaito and Claude were thrown to opposite sides of the room.

There were now screams and frightened shouts coming from the building's other occupants. Claude braced himself against the wall and forced himself up. Gradually he became aware that he was visible once again.

Sylar was getting to his feet. His hand was clamped around the sharp blade; blood was oozing from the wound. He took his hand away briefly and stared at the blood in shock and anger.

'That,' Sylar said through gritted teeth. 'Was a mistake.'

The commotion in the hallway was growing louder and the wail of police sirens could be heard growing closer. It sounded as if somebody had stopped up the elevator; the angry buzzing of its alarm was loud even from the end of the hallway. Kimiko was back in the doorway, staring at Sylar with a burning intensity that surprised Claude. Her hands still trembled, but she raised them anyway and closed her eyes in concentration.

Kaito, meanwhile, had stood up with silent grace and was regarding Sylar with disdain. 'You are powerful,' Kaito said quietly, 'but your mind is sick.'

Sylar laughed, a harsh, barking sound. Claude took advantage of his distraction and slipped into invisibility again. He began to edge around to the door, hoping that he would be able to make it before somebody did something stupid, like attack Sylar again.

'I,' Sylar said as his laughter died, 'am evolution personified.' He spun around suddenly with a speed that was incomprehensible. Without touching it, he ripped the dagger from his shoulder and flung it with deadly precision in Claude's direction.

While working with the company, Claude had finely honed his reflexes. It had been necessary in order to survive in such a hostile environment. It was those very reflexes that saved his life. As soon as Sylar turned, Claude halted and leaped backwards. The dagger caught his coat and pinned the fabric to the wall, but Claude himself was unscathed. He reminded himself of that as his heart raced and a curse slipped from his lips.

Kimiko cried out suddenly, 'Brace!'

Sylar turned to face her and a tremendous gale of wind crashed into the room like a runaway train. Glass and other relatively harmless debris were swept up into the air and began battering at the surprised killer. Sylar batted at the objects, but they pounded him relentlessly, going round and round in a small cyclone.

Syler chuckled and flexed. Another shock wave emanated from him and the wind and all the debris it carried suddenly went raging back in the opposite direction, towards Kimiko. Claude watched as Kimiko's eyes widened and her arms rose in a futile attempt to protect her face. Split seconds later the cyclone hit her and sent her careening into the apartment door across the hall. The door banged open at the impact and the cyclone continued to rip through the apartment until it reached the back wall and dissipated. The remaining debris crashed to the ground and between one second and the next, Sylar vanished.

The building was in a frenzy. Frightened tenants ran screaming down the hallway, convinced that they were under some sort of terrorist attack. The elevators were jammed and the buzzing from their alarms was deafening. Two good Samaritans were going from room to room and asking if anybody was hurt. The police had arrived and were trekking up the stairs to where the trouble was. Above all, there was confusion. Nobody had any real idea of what had happened.

Kaito rushed to the other apartment where his daughter was getting shakily to her feet. Claude wrenched the dagger from the wall and, cursing the hole in his only coat, went to join them, returning to visibility as he went.

Kimiko was a wreck. She leaned heavily on her father and limped when she walked. Her breathing was rapid and her eyes were wide and angry. Small cuts and scrapes adorned her arms and her snappy business suit was in tatters.

'That man...' she murmured.

'Hush, Kimi-chan,' Kaito said soothingly. With a tenderness that staggered Claude he helped his daughter into the hallway and made her sit down.

'Hiro can't fight that monster,' Kimiko whispered.

'Hush, I said,' Kaito scolded gently.

Claude laughed quietly to himself. 'You did good, lass,' he said. Kimiko gave him a wavery smile and Claude returned it with genuine affection.

'This is yours, I think,' Claude said as he handed the dagger to Kaito. 'Mr. Evolution is going to be hurting for some time, I think, though I personally think you should have gone for the throat instead of the shoulder.'

'He couldn't speak if I did that,' Kaito said shortly as he slipped the dagger out of sight. 'I didn't anticipate telekinesis, though I should have. I'm concerned. We came to Mohinder Suresh's home and my son is not here.'

'There was nobody here except the psychopath,' Claude pointed out. 'They could have all gone for a bite, for all we know.'

'Then I am back where I started.' Kaito sighed.

'Probably.' Claude shrugged. 'But right now I think you'd be better off worrying about your daughter.'

'Kimiko will be fine,' Kaito said assuredly with a strange smile. 'Nakamuras are built for longevity.'

November 3, 9:38 a.m.

Nathan slowed his pace purposely when he and Peter reached the street Peter's apartment building was on. Even from the end of the street he could see the blue and red spinning lights of cop cars; Peter commented on them but Nathan only shrugged. Inside, however, Nathan was being plagued with guilt. He had lied to his younger brother, manipulated him, even. The fact that it was for Peter's own good did nothing to alleviate the nagging sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Nathan thought of leaving Peter right then, saying something about preparing for his ten thirty interview, but something wouldn't let him. Nathan thought it was his pride.

As they approached the building and made their way through the standard crowd of gawking on lookers, Nathan spotted Thompson playing the part of detective in the lobby. A uniformed police officer was talking with him, and as Thompson spotted the Petrelli brothers he quickly wrapped up the conversation and sent the cop to talk to a group of confused looking college students.

'What the hell is going on here?' Peter muttered as Thompson made his way over.

'Good question,' Nathan replied. He leveled a scrutinizing stare at Thompson, but the other man simply gave him a small smile and turned his attention to Peter.

'Peter Petrelli?'

Peter glanced at Nathan, who shrugged, and then looked at Thompson warily. 'Yeah, that's me.'

'I'm Detective Redman with the NYPD,' Thompson said smoothly. He flashed what looked like a genuine detective's badge. Nathan couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at it, but Thompson didn't even look at him.

'It appears your apartment was broken into this afternoon.' Thompson put the fake badge away. 'Your neighbors heard shouting and banging and called the police. Nothing's been stolen, but they wrecked the place pretty good. A few things are broken.'

'My...wait, what?' Peter frowned, confused. He ran his hands through his hair nervously. 'Was anybody hurt?'

'Near as we can tell, no. Your neighbors didn't interfere and the place was empty when we got there.'

Peter looked at him sharply. 'That's impossible, there were two people staying with me. I only left an hour ago and they were sleeping. You must have the wrong apartment.'

'I'm afraid not, son,' Thompson said, feigning sympathy. 'We know it was your place because your pictures were all over it. Those two guests of yours, you knew them well?'

'Well...not really,' Peter admitted. 'But there's no way they would trash my place and then take off.'

'Are you absolutely certain of that?' Thompson looked Peter directly in the eyes. Nathan had to admit he played the part of the concerned detective disturbingly well. There was a shadow of doubt in Peter's eyes. Most people wouldn't have caught it, but Nathan did and it was enough to tell him that with enough persuasion Peter would come to believe Thompson's story.

'Why don't you go on up with Officer Bachman,' suggested Thompson when Peter remained silent. 'You can check out the damage and give him some more information.'

Peter predictably looked to Nathan.

'Go on up,' Nathan said and patted his brother on the shoulder. 'I'll call Ma and let her know what happened.'

Peter nodded and sighed heavily. As he went to join the police officer, Nathan heard him mutter 'this has been a very bad week.'

Nathan maintained his distance until Peter reached the elevators but as soon as the elevator doors closed he turned on Thompson.

'I take it things didn't go as planned.'

'You have no idea,' Thompson said. He began to walk and motioned that Nathan should follow him. 'There were several things we weren't prepared for. First of all, your daughter was with Nakamura.'

'My daughter?' Nathan said sharply. 'Claire? What would she be doing here?'

'My guess would be that she was going to see your brother. I spotted her just as we were coming in, but she beat us upstairs. She tipped off Nakamura and his associate and they locked the door.'

'My mother gave you a key.'

Thompson nodded. 'We used it, when our cover story fell through. Had to break the chain, but I'm sure Peter's insurance will cover that.'

'So why didn't you get Claire out of there and do what you were supposed to?' Nathan halted.

Thompson stopped beside him and gave him an exasperated look. 'The fault wasn't ours, Mr. Petrelli. You rather conveniently forgot to mention that Nakamura can teleport. They leapt from the window and, I'm guessing, he teleported all three of them somewhere else. Once he was out of the Haitian's range, there was nothing we could do to stop him.'

'They jumped from the window?' Nathan couldn't help but chuckle dryly. 'That's kind of clever, you know.'

'I'm glad you find it so amusing,' Thompson growled angrily. 'But need I remind you exactly what is at stake here? Not only is Nakamura still free, but we don't know where your daughter is. She could be any place or any time.'

Nathan felt his amusement at Hiro's plan slip away. 'I'm sure she'll come home. She wouldn't want...she wouldn't want to worry us .'

'You certain of that?' asked Thompson with a nasty grin. 'She certainly wasn't forced to jump from that window, you know.'

Nathan's eyes narrowed. 'What do you think we should do?'

'You need to just concentrate on your election, Mr. Petrelli. In the meantime, we'll report Claire as a runaway and get an arrest warrant for Nakamura and his pal. We'd like to keep this quiet for now.'

'I'm getting tired of these games,' Nathan said in a low voice. 'And I don't like it when my family is involved. You find my daughter and keep her safe and as happy as you can. Peter is going to want to find his friends; that's just the way he is. I don't want anybody bothering him. I'll do my best to keep him distracted but if anyone so much as thinks about harming him I will pull out of this election and expose Linderman and your entire company. Is that absolutely clear, Mr. Thompson?'

'Oh, absolutely Mr. Petrelli.' Thompson's smile was not quite sincere. 'Now go placate that brother of yours and make sure you get to your interview on time.'

Hiro disentangled himself from Ando and Claire and stood up, breathing hard. His shoulder hurt, Ando was rubbing his back, and Claire was sitting up and blinking dizzily but they were all alive and not splattered all over the sidewalk. They were also in a place that Hiro instantly recognized from the numerous paint covered canvases in the room. They were in Isaac's loft and they were alive.

'I did it!' Hiro exclaimed and then doubled up as a horrible wave of nausea threatened to make him throw up.

Ando was at his side in an instant. He touched Hiro on the shoulder, his face full of concern.

'Hiro, what's wrong?'

'We jumped out a window!' Hiro exclaimed from his doubled up position.

'Yeah, we did, and if you ever do that again I will personally burn every single one of your first edition Marvels,' Ando replied with a grim smile.

'I will never do that again,' Hiro vowed. 'That was crazy.'

'You are crazy!' Ando squeezed Hiro's shoulder. ' But also very brave.'

Hiro raised his head enough to smile at Ando and then went back to concentrating on not throwing up. Claire, meanwhile, was watching them with a smile on her face.

'Thanks for taking me with you,' she said. 'There's no way I would have gone with that man, not ever, no matter what he said.'

'Glad to help.' Ando bowed shortly and patted Hiro on the back. 'Come on, get up. We're fine now.'

Hiro groaned but straightened anyway. 'Jumped from a window...' Hiro muttered and then hiccupped. Claire laughed.

'I guess you're the guy from the future,' she said.

'No, I'm just Hiro. I'm from now, not then.'

Claire bit her lip and tried not to laugh again. 'Ah. I see. Well, Hiro, I'm Claire.' She grabbed Hiro's hand and shook it. 'Its nice to meet you.'

'Nice to meet you, too,' Hiro said. He looked and felt a bit bewildered. 'This is Ando. He came with me all the way from Japan to save you. He's stuck by me all this time, even though I make him drive everywhere and wouldn't let him pick the radio station.'

Ando raised a hand in greeting and Claire laughed again.

'Nice to meet you as well, Ando,' Claire smiled as she shook Ando's hand. 'So then, Ando, Hiro...where exactly are we?'

'We're in Mr. Isaac's apartment. He paints the future; that's how I knew we were supposed to come here to save you!' Hiro said. 'He made a comic book, Ninth Wonders. We're all in it.'

'I think Peter mentioned it,' Claire said thoughtfully. 'So then where is he?'

Hiro and Ando glanced at each other. The loft was very quiet. Hiro began to get a bad feeling.

'When are we this time?' Ando asked him.


End file.
